


The Raid

by Pixel_Runner



Series: Orc and Humans and Demonspawn, oh my! [2]
Category: Orcs - Fandom, Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: ALL THE TRIGGER WARNINGS, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background transgender character, Camp Nanowrimo, Cunnilingus, Don't read it for the porn, F/M, I have a hard time judging, I'll update the tags tomorrow, It's wee hours of the morning, Language, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Public Semi Sex?, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, Slavery, Social grooming, Teratophilia, Vaginal Fingering, don't even read this, human physiology, i think, just assume all the triggers, look - Freeform, mentions of suicide to name a few, mostly plot, no beta we publish our first drafts like men, not that much smut, offers of assisted dying, some porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:30:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 46,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixel_Runner/pseuds/Pixel_Runner
Summary: Orc Tribe raids human settlement.  Don't really find anything useful.  Woman follows them into the wasteland.  And ends up being accepted by the horde. Low levels of smut.  For more information, check out my blog on Tumblr:The Insecure Writer





	1. Chapter 1

Fuck!  This wasn’t how this was supposed to go!  His tribe had raided the human village. That was what orcs do!  They worked as mercenaries and when there was no work, they raided. They took what they needed.  But in order to find what they needed, they had opened a lot of doors. That part was all normal. Except, this time there had been this barn with heavy locks.  Apparently, it was where this village kept their females. The barn had been full of them. In locked stalls.

 

That was the dumbest thing ever.  The orcs opened every locked door looking for treasure.  All they found was females. Every. Single. Woman had screamed and either run away or cowered in the back of their… stall.  It had been a complete waste of time. Eventually, they had the grain they had come for, and a few extra bags of potatoes, a few bolts of fabric.  The things Orcs did not make that were nonetheless useful to have.

 

They left the town behind.

 

One of the barn women had followed.

 

Jivvaar could tell she was a barn woman because her dress was a ripped and stained sack and she had no shoes.  She had tried to run after their horses. She could not keep up. He put her out of his mind.

 

They found a camp site and set up for the night.  Food was cooked, ale was drunk. The fire burned low.  As a warrior, Jivvaar was on watch. At seven feet tall, with broad shoulders, tribal tattoos, green skin and long black hair, he was an imposing sight to greet any would be attackers.   Sometime after midnight when the barn woman caught up with the tribe. Her feet were blistered by that point and her breathing had a rattle he didn’t like. He gave her a water skin, wrapped her feet in leather and told her to go back to her village.

 

She had just looked at him, eyes wide.  Human eyes were creepy. The whites showed all the time making them look perpetually afraid.  She stank like hunger. Jivvaar handed her one of the slightly mealy apples they still had in their supply cart.  Orchard raiding would be next month. Might as well get rid of the old ones.

 

“Go on!”  He barked, “Shoo!”

 

She stared at him, not moving.  He threw a rock at her. It hit her in the side.  She yelped and ran off into the dark.

 

In the morning when they were packing up, she was back, trying to help.  She was not helping, she was in the way. Jivvaar had to grab her by the back of her sack dress and haul her out of the way so she wouldn’t get crushed by someone moving barrels.  Hand clenched tight around the fabric over her back he shook her and growled, “GO HOME!”

 

The fabric tore and she fell naked on the ground.  Jivvaar frowned. He had never seen a hume with purple skin before.  He grumbled and found another flour sack. It was the work of a moment to cut holes for her neck and arms.  He roughly pulled it over her head. “There! He declared, “better than the one you had. Now go home!”

 

One of the elders teased him, “You gave her a dress, are you planning on courting the runt?”

 

Jivvaar frowed and picked up another stone to throw at her.  She ran off into the woods. He let it drop by his side. The tribe was moving slower now.  The barn woman was following a little ways away. Close enough to see them, but out of stone chucking range.  Her gate became more and more of a hobble and my the time they stopped for mid day meal, she stumbled over to the stream and soaked her feet in the ice cold water.

 

The elder came up to Jivvaar, “What are you going to do about that?”

 

Jivvaar shrugged.  “Not my problem.”

 

“I am making it your problem.  Either feed it or put it out of its misery.”

 

“Why me?”

 

“Well, you did start to court it.  A dress is a good courtship gift.”

 

“Humes don’t work like orcs.”

 

The elder just frowned at him.  “Feed and care for it or put it down.”

 

Jivvaar frowned.  With a scowl, he laddeled out a bowl of the stew and carried it over to where the woman was sitting my the stream.  When she saw him, she stood up and backed away. He set the bowl down on a rock. “I want that back when you are done with it.”

 

She looked at him without responding.

 

Jivvaar snarled and went back to eat with the others.  His brother teased him, “First a dress and now dinner. Am I getting a new sister-in-law?”

 

“Shut up!” he said, shoving Grakk off the rock he where he was sitting.  His brother just laughed. 

 

When he was done eating, he marched over to the barn woman, chased her into the stream and took back his bowl and spoon.  She was done with it anyway. He rinsed it in the stream and went back to his horse.

 

When the caravans rolled out the barn woman hastily bundled her feet in the ratty leather strips Jivvaar had given her and hurried after them.  

 

She was able to keep up for another few hours.  It was sheer luck that Jivvaar looked up to see her collapse.  Except the elder had seen it too.

 

The elder frowned at Jivvaar.  She stopped his horse and drew her knife and snarled, “If you are too cowardly to do it, I will.”  And she started towards the girl.

 

“No!” Jivvaar declared.  “I’ll do it.” He drew his sword and turned his horse to go back where the barn woman was lying.  He stopped a few feet away and jumped from his heavy horse. He walked towards her, sword in hand.  As he blocked out the sun, her eyes opened and she started to make the little whining sound of an animal in pain.  Fuck. The elder was right.

 

But as he advanced, she tried to scramble away.  He caught her by her hair and pulled her up. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face and started to beg for her life.  It was a simple, “Please don’t kill me,” on repeat.

 

He dropped her and sheathed his sword.  “You should have gone home last night.”

 

“That was not my home,” she whispered.

 

“Well, neither is this.”

 

“I can be useful!” she insisted.

 

Jivvaar snorted, “Doing what?” 

 

“I can sew! I can bake bread!”

 

“We have no ovens.  And I don’t believe you can sew for orcs.”

 

She looked at the ground.

 

“If we ride out and leave you here, you will be eaten by wolves.  This is a kindness.”

 

“Wait!” she squeeked.

 

Jivvaar raised an eyebrow mentally planning how to distract her so she wouldn’t see it coming.

 

“I … I could warm your bed.”

 

Now he laughed.  “I would break you.”

 

“Please!  There must be something I can do!”

 

Jivvaar looked over his shoulder, the caravan was moving on.  “Tell me about the place where we found you. We have not seen that before.”

 

“It… it is a place men go to buy women.”

 

Jivvaar shook his head, “A brothel?  No. I have been to those. Brightly lit places, even at midnight.  They serve beer and food and the women will sit on your lap and put their hand in your pants.  That is not where we found you.”

 

She sighed softly and whispered, “It is a place where men go to buy women to own them.”

 

“You are a slave?”  The barn woman nodded. Jivvaar frowned.  “There were little girls in that place.”

 

“Yes.” she said softly.  Then she closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them she had a fake smile on.  It flickered a bit as she forced herself to stand up. “I do not want to go back there. I can sit on your lap and put my hand in your pants and be very pleased to use my hands and mouth on you.”  

 

Jivvaar felt sick and took a step back.  He shook his head.

 

“I would!  I would be happy to pleasure someone who cared if they broke me.”  Then her eyes were suddenly wider. “Master?” she asked quietly.

 

“Don’t call me that.”

 

“Please, give me something to do so that I can stay with you.  But… please…” she stopped, her eyes going wet again, “Just… I will serve you.  Please do not pass me around to the others.”

 

Jivvaar turned and walked back to his horse.  He opened his saddle bags and pulled out a small knife.  “Here. You can use it to hunt or ...use it on yourself before the direwolves come.  They don’t always wait for you to die before they start eating.” He pointed out the hume farm at the eastern horizon.  ”There is your own kind. Get them to take care of you.”

 

He got back on his horse and followed the tracks to catch up with the hoard.  They were already in sight when it dawned on him.

 

Fuck.

 

That was three courting gifts he had given her.

 

That night they camped on the grasslands.  Unlike the forest the night before, the whole tribe could see when the barn woman caught up.  It was dark and evening meal was finished. The elder frowned. “I told you to take care of it.”

 

One of the others interrupted, “If it can keep up with the hoarde, it is worth feeding.”

 

“It can not,” the first matriarch argued.  “It falls behind. It can not walk all day, every day.  It’s legs are too short to keep up. It is killing itself trying.  It is cruel to allow this to continue.”

 

The other matriarch shook her head.  “It struggles to stay alive. It fights for its life.  Who are you to decide its fate?”

 

“We found it in a barn.  It is a beast not a person.”

 

The second matriarch stood up.  “If it is a beast, then I shall keep it as a pet.”  She walked out to meet the barn woman. Jivvaar closed his eyes and waited for her to call him out on the knife.

 

It didn’t happen.

 

Maybe the barn woman had lost it.

 

The elder was out in the grass for a very long time.  This could not be a good thing.

 

Jivvaar started to fidget.  Grakk noticed, “Sorry she isn’t to be your pet, brother?” he teased.

 

“He was given every opportunity,” the elder pointed out.

 

Jivvaar frowned and considered this.  “The barn where we found her was the place they kept their breeders.  Where hume females are treated as cattle.” There was a shocked silence.  Jivvaar continued. “She begged me not to kill her. Offered to bed me if she could stay with us.  Asked that I please not pass her around.”

 

That caused some grumbling. 

 

He raised his eyes to the elder who had sent him out to kill her.  “She believed that was a possibility?” the elder asked.

 

Jivvaar nodded slowly.

 

“And what did you say?”  

 

“I said I would not send her back, but that she couldn’t stay with us. I told her she must fend for herself or find other humes to stay with.  I suggested she try the farm we were passing.”

 

There was a certain about of nodding at that.

 

The Elder  Sayass came back, carrying the barn woman.  Her feet had bled through the leather wraps Jivvaar had given her.  “This is Ziris. She is going to be staying with me in my caravan,” the matriarch said firmly.

 

That night, the matriarch came to Jivvaar’s tent.  “You gave her a knife. Under the circumstances, it does not sound like a courting gift.  What that your intention?”

 

Jivvaar closed his eyes and shook his head.  “I have seen a dire wolf bring creatures alive back to their pups.   It teaches the pups to hunt. But it is a very slow and painful death for the creature.  Better to turn the knife on yourself.”

 

Sayass nodded.  Then she handed Jivvaar back his knife.  “She does not wish to be courted. But it was surprising how much she was willing to give in exchange for the promise of safety.”

 

Jivvaar tensed.  “How much did you take?”

 

Sayass raised an eyebrow.  “That, my dear boy, is between her and I.”

 

\----

 

There really wasn’t enough room in Sayass’s caravan for the two of them.  After that first night, the barn woman slept, wrapped in a blanket next to the fire.  It was quickly seen to be a test of the hoard. Sayass always knew who had given the woman a kick and who had stoked the fire to keep her warm.  As the hoard healer, she wasn’t above using that knowledge when orcs came to her for help.

 

Ziris was being taught healing.

 

To Jivvaar’s surprise, the other matriarchs approved.

 

Orcs raid for (or traded for) cloth to make nappies for their pups or for breast binding.  The last raid had turned up bolts of the stuff. The barn woman was wearing hand me down leggings from one of the youngling, but she made herself a few tunics.  The elders were impressed with the neatness of her sewing.

 

The warriors didn’t see the attraction.  Battle scars were to be worn with pride.

 

Until Yerug came back with a slice that had nearly unmanned him.  At that point, everyone could see the advantage of tiny fingers making tiny stitches.

 

\----

 

The thunder woke Jivvaar in his tent.  The rain poured down only a moment later.  He was suddenly quite glad he had taken the time to rewax the canvas that summer.  It was a tedious job but it was keeping him dry.

 

Then he thought of the barn woman who slept by the fire. He opened the flag of his tent and peered out into the gale.  He couldn’t see a damn thing. She was probably safe. 

 

There was another flash of lighting which illuminated a frightened shape huddled under Sayass’s caravan.  Jivvaar groaned. He was going to have to go out in this after all.

 

Huddling under his cape, he made his way to the caravan and called out, “Barn woman!  Come with me!” She stared at him longer than he would have liked. He held out his cloak so it could cover her too.  She ducked under it and they made their way back to his tent.

 

Once inside, he dug through his pack. “Take off your clothes.” He ordered.  She stared at him with wide eyes. “You are dripping on the sleeping furs.”

 

The fool turned and looked at the tent flaps like she was seriously considering going back out into the storm.  Jivvaar held out his spare shirt. “This will keep you covered.” She looked back, her eyes searching his face. Then she nodded and took the dry shirt.  It was carefully made from the soft skin of the the creatures that lay like water cows on the side of the ocean. It had been hard to come by. “It is not a gift.  I want it back when you are done with it.”

 

She nodded, hurrying to get out of wet clothes and into something dry.

 

Jivvaar snorted.  “You offered to pleasure me once.  Having second thoughts now that you have seen what Yerug has in his pants?”

 

“You said I would break.  Better to be out in the rain then shredded.”

 

Jivvaar nodded.  He pointed across the tent.  “You sleep on that side. I am not courting you.  Understand?”

 

The barn woman nodded and crept across the sleeping furs, accidently flashing Jivvaar a pair of shapely legs.  He suppressed a groan and lay down with his back to her, facing the tent flap.

 

The woman was making a funny sound.  Jivvaar rolled over to look at her. Not snoring.  She was trembling but didn’t smell afraid. Well, no more than she usually did.  “What are you doing?”

 

She looked at him in confusion.  “I don’t understand.”

 

Jivvaar frowned, the woman filinched.  “You are making a strange noise and trembling.”

 

“I’m cold.  I am shivering.”

 

“Well, stop it.  It is distracting and I’m trying to sleep.”

 

“I’m sorry.  I can’t. Shivering is an involuntary response.  It is my body trying to get warm.”

 

“Orcs don’t do that.”

 

“Orcs have more muscle mass to generate heat.”

 

Jivvaar grunted and considered that.  “Fine,” he grumbled. “Come here and I’ll warm you up for a few minutes.  Then you go back to your side of the tent, understood?”

 

The woman inched wormed over to him.  She didn’t reach for him, but her toes brushed against his knee.

 

“Holy shit balls!  Your toes are like death!”

 

She hastily pulled away.

 

“It can’t possibly be good for a living creature to be that cold, can it?” he asked.  She didn’t answer, but shook her head a little indicating no. “Hmm.” Jivvaar moved slowly so she could see it coming, but grabbed it and pulled her close, hissing slightly when her flesh touched his.  After a moment the noise stopped. A few minutes after that the shivering stopped.

 

He looked down and her and tried to decide if he should shove her back across the tent.  What he said was, “You don’t talk like a slave.”

 

The woman made a quiet, cynical half laugh, “I wasn’t born a slave.  I was a merchant’s daughter. I went to school before my father arranged my marriage to one of his partner’s sons.  I moved to his family’s home in Northton.”

 

Jivvaar nodded.  “I know Northton.  It is in the disputed zone.”

 

The woman nodded.  “Yes, so it gets raided by both sides.  I was taken for ransom. But when the kidnappers contacted my father in law, he told them that I had been married for five years without a pregnancy and he was not going to pay for a barren woman.” 

 

Jivvaar considered that.  “That sounds like something they say to keep slaves from trying to escape.”

 

“Maybe, but it also sounds just like my father in law.”

 

Jivvaar snorted breathing in her scent.  She tensed in his arms. Humans were strange still, so he asked to be sure, “Do you desire me now?  You smell like fear and lust.” Now she wiggled out of his grasp and scrambled to the furthest part of the tent.  Jivvaar frowned. “I’m not going to hurt you. I asked so that I would not misinterpret.”

 

“I do not desire you.  For thousands of years, human women have not had any say on when or with who they have sex.  It has been like selective breeding for females who… um… lubricate when stressed.”

 

That gave Jivvaar a lot to think about.  “Are you warm enough?” The woman nodded.  Jivvaar rolled over and grumbled, “Then go to sleep.”

 

\----

 

In the morning, Grakk leered at Jivvaar as soon as he came out of the tent.  Jivvaar didn’t even wait for him to open his mouth before punching his brother.  “Don’t say it! Just because I’m not an asshole like you, who would leave a female to freeze in the rain does NOT mean I am courting her!”

 

To Jivvaar’s surprise, Yerug came up to him as they were riding out and asked, “Did you mean that?  About not courting Zira?”

 

“The barn woman?  Yes! I am not courting her.  I am not interested in courting her.  I may not want her dead, but that is hardly an interest.”

 

Yerug looked relieved.  “So you will not be offended if I do?”

 

Jivvaar felt the pit of his stomach drop.  He was not happy with the idea of Yerug courting the woman, but he had no cause to object.  He shrugged and mounted his horse, riding away without replying.

 

That night at supper, Yerug offered the woman a brown bear pelt from one of his past kills.  Jivvaar was pleased when she looked horrified and backed away. Her words, however were not as pleasing.

 

“I ..  I have nothing to trade for that,” she whispered.

 

Grakk laughed, “I think you more than paid for it saving his wedding tackle.”

 

Yerug flushed a darker shade of green.  “It’s a courting gift.”

 

“I don’t understand.” 

 

Sayass came over to stand next to Zira.  She put her arm around the woman’s shoulder as she explained, “Yerug would like to court you.  To get to know you better. If you are interested in getting to know him better, you will accept his gifts and begin to spend time with him.  He will give you things to show that he is a good hunter, a good provider, good husband material. If you are not interested, you can refuse. If you have courted him for a while and are no longer interested, you will return his gifts and there will be no more said of it.”

 

The woman looked at the matriarch and said softly, “Jivvaar gave me a knife.”

 

Sayass nodded. “That was not a courting gift.  I gave it back to him.”

 

Rika called out from across the fire, “You aren’t pretty enough to have two men courting you at the same time.”  The hoard laughed. The barn woman’s face turned red and she looked at the ground.

 

Sayass rubbed her back.  “Don’t worry about them. This has to be your decision.  It is up to you if you are willing to let Yerug court you or not.”

 

There was a long moment of silence.  Yerug started to fidget awkwardly. Finally, Zira looked up at him and whispered.  “Thank you for the gift, Yerug. Thank you for your patience as I try to understand.”

 

And, to Jivvaar’s mounting distress, she took the pelt.

 

\----

 

The fire had burned low and the woman had wrapper herself in Yerug’s gift.  Most of the hoard had gone to their tents or caravans, so she crept forward to lay down near the remains of the fire.

 

Yerug watched her before awkwardly saying, “You are welcome in my tent, if you like.”

 

Jivvaar hurried to add, “It isn’t expected.”

 

She looked between them, then up at the stars.  “It doesn’t look like rain. I am fine here.”

 

Yerug shrugged and went to his tent alone.  

 

Jivvaar moved closer to her and threw another log on the fire.  The barn woman looked up at him questioningly. “I’m sorry I threw that rock at you,” he said.

 

She nodded.  “I am grateful for the apple.  And the stew. And I appreciate what you were doing when you gave me the knife.”

 

Jivvaar grunted.  He wasn’t expecting the next bit.

 

“I’m sorry I have been a problem for you.  If Yeruk likes me, I won’t be a problem for you anymore.”

 

“You aren’t a problem for me.”  He thought about what she said last night.  “We aren’t human. We expect you to choose for yourself when you mate and who you mate with.  You do not have to choose Yerug.”

 

The woman shrugged.  “The farms are harvesting apples.  Snow will be coming soon. Given the choice, I would sleep inside rather than in the snow.  Yerug is giving me time to get used to him. I am grateful for that as well.”

 

Jivvaar watched her for a moment before whispering, “You are welcome in my tent, if you like.”

 

The barn woman gave him a sad smile.  “I’m not pretty enough to have two men courting me at the same time.”

 

Jivvaar considered this.  Where orcs had black hair, green skin and brown eyes, this woman had brown hair, pink skin (that was more brown now that she had been in the sun) and green eyes.  Her cheekbones and jawline were sharp. Her nose was small and slight turned up at the end. She did not look like and orc. But she wasn’t unpleasant either. The part that made him nervous was that she barely came up to his breast bone.  Humans were fragile things, easy to injure, easy to kill.

 

“You are small,” he said.  “Yeruk will have to be careful with you.”  He thought some more. “You will have to tell him about your smell.”

 

Now she sat up and looked at him. “Please don’t tell him that.  I don’t want him to be discouraged because I am afraid. I am afraid of everyone.”

 

Jivvaar frowned, “It is unfair to Yeruk not to know that.  He would not want to force you. He needs to know he can’t read you like an orc.”

 

“Jivvaar, please keep my secrets.”

 

There wasn’t any good reply to that, so he grumbled, “Go to sleep.”

 

\----

 

The next night, they camped by a lake and Zira when to bath with the other females.  Jivvaar thought this was stupid. The water would be too cold for her. Sure enough, he found her later, teeth chattering, wrapped in her pelt, sitting near Sayass’s caravan.  The matriarch’s pet did not rank a seat at the fire if anyone else wanted one. She was trying to comb the tangles from her hair with her fingers.

 

Jivvaar sat next to her.  “Let me,” he said, pulling a comb from his sporran.  She nodded and he began the painstaking work of detangling her hair.  Once it was all combed out, he carefully braided it for her.

 

“Will you tie it for me?” she asked.  “It’s always a mess. Yours always looks so good.”

 

Jivvaar stood up and stormed off.  Zira watched him leave in alarm. He stopped at the fire to smack the back of Yerug’s head.  “Your beloved needs a hair tie. Stop slacking off.”

 

Yerug jumped and ran happily over to the confused looking woman.  “Will you accept my hair decoration?” he asked formally.

 

She gazed up at him.  He knelt in the mud next to her.  “Is… is this another courting gift?”

 

Yerug’s smile wavered, “Yes…. is that ok?”

 

Zira nodded.  Yerug unbraided her hair and ran his fingers roughly through it.  He braided it again, not nearly as carefully or as elaborately as Jivvaar had done. And tied the end with a strip of leather.

 

She held Jivvaar’s gaze as he worked. Jivvaar saw every surpressed wince. “Thank you, Yerug.” Zira said obediently as he finished.

 

He beamed at her and said, happily, “You’re welcome!” before heading back to the fire.

 

Kraal, the elder who had pushed Jivvaar to either keep or kill the barn woman, called her over.  “You come sit with me, my girl. Humans don’t do well with the cold.”

 

She shook her head, “I’m OK.  Yerug has given me this lovely warm pelt.”

 

Kraal shot Jivvaar a pointed look and said, “Yes, he has, hasn’t he?  Come sit with me anyway.”

 

Zira came and sat next to the matriarch, who cupped her chin and frowned at her face.  “Yeruk! If you are courting a human, you must be more careful! See how her lips are turning more blue?  Blue or purple are not good colours for humans to be. Their skin changes colours depending on their health.  Blue is cold, purple is damage, although it turns green then yellow when they are healthing. Red is anger or embarrassment.  Keeping a human alive is a difficult thing. You have to make sure she is worth the effort.”

 

Sure enough, Zira’ face turned bright red at that.

 

\----

 

Jivvaar was once again the last orc to leave the fire.  As he stood, up, he looked at Zira and said, “If it gets too cold out here for you, you are always welcome in my tent.”

 

She shook her head.  “You are a kind man, Jivvaar.  But you have been very clear that you are not courting me.  I do not want to upset Yerug by sleeping next to another while I am courting you.”

 

Jivvaar frowned, “If you get too cold will you go to his tent?”

 

“I am not ready to have sex with him.  I don’t want him to … misunderstand.”

 

Jivvaar stood his ground.  “Then you must explain to him.  Don’t freeze.”

 

She nodded.  He went back to his tent.  He did not go to sleep. He spent a lot of time thinking about how vulnerable she was out there.  How fragile she was. How good she smelled.

 

Gods’ dammit.

 

When he left his tent it was to take a piss.  He was absolutely not checking on her.

 

She wasn’t near the fire.  Jivvaar was both relieved and disappointed.  Since he was up, he patrolled the boundaries of their camp, trying to relax.

 

He found she curled up against Sayass’s horses.

 

He knelt down and put his hand on her cheek.  She startled awake with a squeek and tried to pull away.

 

“What are you doing out here?” he demanded.

 

“Not freezing,” she replied.

 

“Your face is cold.”

 

She curled up a little tighter and pulled the fur up around her face.

 

“Stop being stubborn!  Come to get warm.”

 

“You aren’t the only one being teased about you courting me.  I spend another night in your tent and Yerug might no longer want to put the effort into courting me.”

 

Jivvaar glared at her in exasperation.  The right thing to do would be to go wake Yerug and tell him to take care of her.  He didn’t want to do that. Instead, he scooped her up under his arm, like carrying off a piglet and brought her to Sayass’s caravan.

 

“Put me down!” she hissed.  “It is disrespectful to wake a sleeping elder!”

 

He set her next to the fire pit and started a new fire.  Then he stormed into his tent and dug around through his pile of furs.  He had the white pelt from a snow bear. It was bigger and better and  _ warmer _ than the brown bear hide Yerug had given her.  Killing the beast had earned him a set of claw scars across his chest.  He came back to where the barn woman was sitting and thrust it at her. 

 

She stared at him.

 

“Courting gift!”  He announced. “I would be a much better husband than Yerug!”

 

She gave him a funny look.  “Is this for real this time?  You aren’t going to change your mind in the morning?”

 

“No.” Even to Jivvaar’s ears he sounded like a sullen toddler.

 

She watched him for a moment and then said, “Thank you for the gift Jivvaar,” as she took the pelt.

 

In the morning, Yerug took one look at the pelt and growled.  He blustered up to Jivvaar and gave him a shove. “What in seven hells do you think you are doing?  I ASKED before I started courting her. You said you weren’t interested.”

 

“You are doing a piss poor job of it!  If you are going to court a woman, put some effort in!” Jivvaar roared.

 

“I was doing fine!  Stupid humes don’t fucking know any better anyway.”

 

Jivvaar headbutted Yerug hard enough to knock the orc to the ground.  “If you aren’t going to be serious about her, they why bother?”

 

“Use your nose!  Sewing me up made her so wet, it was probably running down her leg!”

 

“You know NOTHING about human females!”  Jivvaar roared, ignoring the fact that until two days ago, neither did he.  That wasn’t the point. The point was that she had told HIM and was hiding from Yerug.

 

Orcs from the same tribe rarely fight to the death.  This was not one of those times. But Yerug dove at Jivvaar and knocked him to the ground, pummelling him.  Jivvaar punched Yerug in the kidneys and flipped them over, pinning Yerug to the ground. “If you think she is not worth the effort, then you are not worthy of her!” he roared in Yerug’s ear.

 

He stood up and saw the hoard watching him.  Including Zira, with her too wide eyes. He locked gaze with her as he kicked Yerug.  He walked up to her and said quietly, “Will you let me braid your hair?”

 

Eyes still too wide, she nodded.

 

“Good.” Jivvaar put his hand on her back and lead her to the fire. He untied her braid and dropped Yerug’s leather strap in the fire.  Then he got out his bone comb and carefully combed out the tangles before rebraiding it and using a piece of silk to tie the ends. 

 

He handed her the comb.  “I carved it from the tusk of one of the northern sea elephants.  I did the scrimshaw myself too. It is the of the cliffs where the creatures nest.  I offer it to you as a courting gift.”

 

“It’s beautiful, Jivvaar! Thank you!”

 

Jivvaar nodded and grunted.

 

\---

 

Since he had a beloved to feed, Jivvaar brought down a fat deer with his bow as the hoard passed by an orchard. He traded most of the meat for apples the hoard could load into their wagons.  He took the hide, antlers and Zira into the town and traded it at the tanners for a pair of rabbit fur lined slippers for her. When they got back to the hoard, he pan fried the liver with onions and garlic for her.

 

She frowned at him.

 

“It will make your blood strong,” he explained.  “Strong blood will help keep you warmer.”

 

“I have never eaten liver before,” Zira said watching him.

 

He turned to stare at her.  She blushed and looked away.  At Sayass, who was also appalled. 

 

“I will take better care of you than anyone has before.” Jivvaar finally said.

 

Zira ate the liver.  No one pointed out that by orc standards it was incredibly neglectful that she had never had it before.  Females needed the iron.

 

That night, Jivvaar held out his hand and said, “Will you join me in my tent?  I will not touch you, but you will be warmer sleeping in a tent.”

 

Zira, looked up at him and nodded.  When she stood up, she left the brown bear pelt behind.

  
  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jivvaar takes his responsibilities seriously

“Are you warm enough?” Jivvaar asked as Zira crept into the tent.

 

“Yes, thank you.” Zira replied. 

 

Jivvaar grunted in acknowledgement.  “You know where your space to sleep is.  Go to it and go to sleep.”

 

The woman slid down to the back of the tent and curled into a ball.  She smelled like wood smoke and mud and a little of horse. To be fair, months on the road, had left him stinking of sweat and horse and a little of blood.  He would need to find a way to get them both a bath. He could just go for a swim, no matter how cold the water was. He was fairly certain that wouldn’t be a good idea for her.

 

He wasn’t sure how to ask.

 

“Jivvaar?”

 

“What?”  OK… that sounded angrier than he intended.  He tried again, “What do you need Zira?”

 

“Thank you for caring for me.”

 

Jivvaar snorted.  Then his ears perked up as he realized what else he was smelling.  They sagged again as he remembered what else she had said. “You’re welcome,” he grumbled.  He tried to remember how far they were from the nearest orc friendly settlement, when he felt tentative fingers on his shoulder.  He stiffened… they withdrew. He heard Zira sigh and shuffle back to her side of the tent.

 

Her side!  Ha! The tent wasn’t that big.  Her side meant where she was maybe a foot away rather than actually touching him.  His tent was big enough for two orcs, if they were extremely friendly. The only reason she wasn’t on top of him was humans are smaller.

 

Great.  Now he was thinking about her on top of him.  Her legs spread wide. Her dripping cunt inching closer as she slowly impaled herself on his- 

 

Jivvaar jumped up and stormed out of the tent.

 

“Is everything alright?” she called after him

 

“Go to sleep!”

 

\----

 

This was a mistake.  Jivvaar was, well, he had been easier to talk to than Yerug.  Despite throwing that rock at her the first day. He had been careful.  He had take care of her. Even before he called her stupid, Zira was well aware that Yerug was only looking for a bed warmer.  Jivvaar had seemed like a better choice. But… here they were. He had only been courting her a day and he already couldn’t stand to be in the same tent as her.

 

And she had already disgraced Yerug but accepting Jivvaar’s courting gift and by abandoning the brown bear skin.  Maybe Jivvaar had been right. She should have just gone to that farm. Or ran away while they were stopped at that town.  But she was well aware of what happened to unwanted women in human settlements. So far, horror stories her father had told her aside, the orcs had been much kinder than the humans.

 

She had been teased about being small, but no one had threatened her or (that one thrown rock aside) done anything to hurt her.  As Zira nodded off, she resolved to find a courting gift for Jivvaas in the morning.

 

\----  

 

Jivvaas borrowed a cauldron from Sayass.  He filled it with water and set it over the fire.  The rest of the hoard moved on. Sayass stayed behind to watch.  Once the water was warm but not boiling, he handed Zira a rag and a bar of soap. He stomped off to wait on his horse, better to stand guard.

 

He heard Sayass burst out laughing.  “Well, he didn’t actually say you stink, but…””

 

The barn woman shrugged.  “But, yeah, I do.” 

 

“Wash up, then we’ll wash your clothes and you can wear one of my tunics while they dry.”

 

“Thank you, Sayass.” 

 

The air was cold, but Sayass set up an awning off the side of her caravan and easily carried over the cauldron full of water.  Zira scrubbed up, happy to get the build up of dirt and oil out of her hair. While she was carefully combing out the tangles, Sayass took the cauldron out and told Jivvaas to dump it and get some clean water.

 

Sayass was back helping Zira comb out the worst of the tangles when Jivvaar came back with another cauldron of warm water.  Zira blushed and wrapped the towel a little tighter around herself. Jivvaar looked at her, then turned to leave.

 

“Stop!” Sayass commanded.  “You too! Strip!” Jivvaar stared at the elder. “You also need a wash.  I used to peel you like a zak fruit and pop you into that pot, boy. Don’t think you are too big for me to try it again!”

 

Zira suppressed a giggle at that mental image.  Jivvaar frowned and pulled off his leather sleeveless shirt.  Zira was surprised at how well defined his chest was. Lots of men have muscular arms and a flabby waistline.  Jivvaar looked like he had been chiseled out of expensive green marble. She swallowed. He turned and glanced at her before pointedly turning his back and unlaced his pants. 

 

My word!  That was easily the nicest ass Zira had ever seen. 

 

Jivvaar dipped a clean rag into the water and began scrubbing off.  The lighter swirls of dirty wiped away to leave an even light green complexion.  Zira forced herself to concentrate on the idea that they were actually getting clean and not Jivvaar’s muscled back.

 

Oh.

 

“Um?  Jivvaar?  I could wash your back if you sit down.”

 

Jivvaar just grunted.  But a moment later, he sat on a blanket.  Zira used a washcloth to scrub down his back and shoulders while he scrubbed his chest and arm pits.  She carefully lifted his hair out of the way. “I could wash this too, if you like.”

 

“Don’t have time.  Need to wash it then re braid it.”

 

“Orc hair decorations are very symbolic.” Sayass explained.  Then she chuckled as they both jumped at the sound of her voice.  “Each bead and tie has meaning. So when we wash our hair, we also take off one bead, brush out that lock of hair, then re braid it and put the bead back on.  It is a tedious process.”

 

“We have to catch up to the hoard by tonight.”  Jivvaar added.

 

“So…  why bathe now rather than tonight at the next campsite?”

 

Jivvaar shrugged.  “Hume - um Humans are weird about nudity.”

 

Zira frowned.  Sayass laughed.  “You are. You are careful to be covered, as though you have anything different under your clothes than anyone else.  And you get uncomfortable when we are naked around camp.”

 

Zira blushed.  “I can see your point.  We treat nakedness differently.”

 

Jivvaar shrugged again as he washed his balls.  Zira dropped the wash cloth and gathered up her dirty clothes.  “I’ll go to the stream to wash these.” 

 

“No.  They are murlocs.  Sayass or I will get you water.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Sayass took Zira’s clothes.  “I’ll go wash these and be right back, shall I?”

 

Zira toweled off some more and reached for the short sleeved tunic Sayass was lending her.  It fit like a dress, all she needed was a belt. When she looked up, Jivvaar was watching her.

 

“When I build you a caravan, you will be able to have more clothes.”

 

Zira frowned.   “I’m sorry? I don’t understand.  Why would you build me a caravan?”

 

“It is a home.  A house on wheels, so that you can travel with me.  Or you can have a home in whichever orcish stronghold is nearest to where I am fighting.”

 

Zira stared at him.

 

Jivvaar sighed.  “It is a wedding present. From a male and his tribe to his new wife.  It is symbolic of them giving her a home when she leaves her own tribe.”

 

“Oh.  What does a wife give to her new husband?”

 

Jivvaar looked at her, then looked away.  He stood up and dumped out the cauldron of water. He pulled clean clothes out of his pack.  After he was dressed he packed up Sayass’s awning. And carried the pot over to the remains of the fire to dry.

 

Sayass came back and showed Zira how to hang up her damp clothes inside the caravan.  While she was doing that, they started to move. Zira ended up on the bench next to Sayass watching Jivvaar scout ahead.

 

“Sayass, what does a wife give to her new husband?”

 

Sayass laughed.  “A family! Children!”

 

“Oh.”  Zira felt she was going to be sick.  “And what if she can’t have children?”

 

Sayass looked at her like she was stupid.  “There are always extra children who need a home.  A wife is expected to feed and care for them until their milk teeth fall out and they can start to learn from the hoard.”

 

Zira considered this.  “So… it wouldn’t matter to Jivvaar that I’m human and can’t have his children?”

 

Sayass smiled.  “Easy there. Humans and Orcs can certainly interbreed.  Makes for healthier pups, having a family tree that isn’t a stick.  But if you can’t well… children you raise together will be your children, right?”

 

“I guess so…  men don’t always think like that.”

 

Sayass snorted, “Yeah.  Always worried about their dynasty.  Never thinking about inbreeding making their strain weak.”

 

Zira considered this.  She had spent time in her husband’s family’s library.  His genealogy was… tangled. Still, it was she that was barren.  The scullery maid had born a son by Zira’s husband.

 

“Why so thoughtful?” Sayass asked.

 

“I don’t really know what is going to happen to me.  I’m just floating along, trying not to drown and I have know idea where we are going or what I am doing.”

 

Sayass snorted.  “The hard answer is: neither does anyone else.  The easy answer is that we are going to the south.  Orcesses go into season every two years. It is time to get to the breeding lands so that our tribe does not become a stick.”

 

Zira considered this.  That actually explained a lot about why Jivvaar was so kind to her.  She was practice until he could meet a pretty - or whatever - big strong fertile female orc.  She was practice. She could understand that. But it didn’t bode well for what would happen to her once he found someone better suited to him.

 

On the other hand, that was something she could do for him.  Help him clean up and make sure he was the best looking male at the… breeding grounds.  It would be a good way to repay him for his kindness. 

 

\----

 

Jivvaar was sitting with his hunting party and a mug of ale when Zira came over with a bowl.  She hesitated when she saw the other orcs and turned to leave. Grakk called to her, “What do you need, oh light of my brother’s eye?”  There was a general snickering and a couple of coughs. 

 

Now that she was scrubbed clean, Jivvaar could easily tell when her smell went from uncertain to embarrassed.  She turned back toward them, but ducked her head and hunched a little to make herself even smaller than she was.

 

“It is nothing,” she said softly.

 

Grakk grinned at her, “If you came all the way over here, it is something.  You have bowl. Did you need one of us to get you some food?”

 

Zira shook her head.  “It is not something worth interrupting.”

 

Jivvaar reached out for the bowl.  “If you need to eat, that is worth interrupting.”

 

Zira took a step back.  She was blushing furiously now.  “I thought I could re braid your hair.  The bowl was to hold the beads so I didn’t lose any.  But I can see that you are busy.”

 

The group fell silent and all looked at her.  Zira took another uncertain step back.

 

Grakk said quietly.  “That is a big job to be undertaking.  My brother’s hair is a mess.” The orc sitting next to him punched him in the shoulder.

 

Zira peeked up at him.  “I thought maybe I could work on it a little at a time.”

 

“You don’t have to do this.” Jivvaar said softly.

 

“I know.” Zira replied.  “But I’m offering to anyway.  You don’t have to let me.”

 

Jivvaar looked hard at her, trying to read features that were still slightly alien.  Where orc body language shouted, Zira’s whispered. It was harder to catch what she wasn’t saying.  In the end he grunted and turned his back to her. “Don’t lose any,” he mumbled. He wondered if humans had the same understanding of how much trust was involved in letting someone stand behind you.

 

Where an orcess would have pulled out all his beads, raked a comb through his hair, chopped off any ends that dared to offend her and rebraided his hair in the style of her tribe, Zira started by carefully pushing the braids to the side and painstakingly untangling the unbraided part.  Once that was done, she carefully removed a single bead, placing it in the bowl and began to untangle one braid, first with her fingers, then with the comb he had given her. When that lock was nicely combed out, she carefully rebraided it.

 

Where she ran into problems was getting the bead back on.  The hunting party that had been watching could see and smell her mounting panic.

 

Grakk came over, “Hey, Zira?  It’s OK. You just need to trim the ends.”  He pulled out a small knife and cut the ends of the braid against his thumb, then twisted the tip of the braid so the bead slid on easily before fluffing the end so it would stay there.

 

Zira watched this carefully, anxiously chewing her bottom lip.  “I don’t have any scissors.” She looked at Grakk, then tried again.  “I don’t have a knife.”

 

The hunting party looked shocked.  Jivvaars ears turned a darker shade of green.  He pulled out the small boot knife he had given her before and passed it over his shoulder to her, hilt first.  “Here,” he said flatly.

 

Zira took it and places it in the bowl and went to work on the next braid.  By the time she was done with that one, it was getting dark and her arms were sore.  She offered Jivvaar the knife back. “If you don’t object, I’ll finish the rest tomorrow.  It is getting too dark for me to see properly.”

 

Grakk caught her arm.  She dropped the knife and scrambled back from him before sprinting away, back toward Sayass’s caravan.

 

The orcs stared after her in shock.  Jivvaar sighed and pick up his knife and the bowl.  “She is still afraid of us. If you are going to touch her, it works better if she can see it coming.”

 

Elias stared at Jivvaar in confusion.  “She braided your hair, but refused your knife.  That makes no sense!”

 

Grakk and Jivvaar shared a look.

 

Galdeck said quietly, “Humes don’t let their bitches carry arms, do they?”

 

Jivvaar shook his head.

 

Grakk cleared his throat.  “You are going to have to work on that, brother.”

 

Jivvaar nodded and headed off in the direction ZIra had gone.

 

He found Sayass instead.  The matriarch grinned up at him, “Nice hair,” she teased.

 

Jivvaar grunted.  “Where is she?” he asked.

 

“Getting dressed.”

 

Jivvaar nodded.  I will go set up my campsite for the night.”  He turned to leave then added, “Please tell her she is welcome.”

 

“Of course.”

 

\----

Jivvaar was already in his tent when Zira went to find him.  There was no door to knock on so, instead she asked quietly, “Can I come in?”

 

Jivvaar held the tent flag open for her.  He had lain out the white bear fur on the side where she slept.  She crawled in and wiggled out of her leggings as she lay down. Jivvaar could smell that the wool was still a little damp.

 

That wasn’t all he could smell.  Her hands smelled like him. Her body smelled nervous and interested.  He considered that carefully. Nervous, not afraid. Hmm. 

 

“You understand that you can refuse me, yes?”  She gave him a look of confusion. He sighed. “You do not need to allow me to touch you.  You …. Sleeping in my tent, receiving my gifts, I am not buying you, do you understand? You can refuse me.”  She started to smell more nervous, but she nodded slowly. “You do not need to accept my gifts, or braid my hair for me to care for you.”

 

Nod.

 

“I wish to give you something, that I am not certain humans give to their females.  In fact, I have heard that mostly they do not. You do not have to accept it.”

 

Nod.  “What is it?”

 

  1.  He needed to be careful here.  How to explain this next bit… “Orcs …  we communicate by smells in a way that humans do not.  I want…. I would like to give you my smell.” OK, that was not the thing to say, now she was afraid.



 

“You want me to milk you.” she said flatly.

 

Jivvaar frowned trying to understand what she meant.  When he did, he swallowed. Yes, yes he really did, but, “That is not what I am asking for, but it is close to what I am offering.  I would like to use my mouth on you.”

 

Now she was just confused.  “How does that work?”

 

Jivvaar flopped on his back and stared at the top of the tent.  “You said you were married for five years. Did you husband never… please you?”

 

“Of course he did!  I would bring me new shoes or fancy dresses when he travelled.”

 

Jivvaar closed his eyes.  “Did he not taste your body?”

 

Suddenly, Zira was leaning over him, she carefully kissed his lips, avoiding his tusks.  Then she stroked his cheek. “You are a good person, Jivvaar. My husband … kept me a decoration.  My job was to look pretty in fancy shoes and dresses and jewellry and to open my legs to him when he required it.  The things he gave me, they were not mine. I did not get to refuse them. He did not bother trying to explain things to me or to understand my fears.  My need to eat was not important enough to interrupt him. I do not understand what you are saying. But I trust you not to hurt me.”

 

Jivvaar sat up and licked her mouth.  Then he stopped. “Can I trust you to tell me when you need me to stop?”

 

There was a brief burst of fear, but she swallowed and nodded.

 

“Orcs do not kiss as humans do.  Our lips cannot close over our tusks.”  He cupped the back of her head and pressed their foreheads together.  He closed his eyes and breathed her smell. He rolled on to his side and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the smell of her hair.  He lapped gently at her throat. 

 

She sighed and relaxed a little. “This is what you are asking to do?”

 

Jivvaar nodded and pulled away so he could see her face when he said, “Yes, but over all of you.”

 

“Are you going to bite me?”

 

Jivvaar kept his eyes locked on hers and shook his head, no.  That part could wait. “No. This should feel nice. If it doesn’t you need to tell me.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Zira nodded.

 

“You can change your mind and tell me to stop at anytime.”

 

Zira smiled.  “Thank you, Jivvaas.”

 

He snorted, “I haven’t done anything yet.”  He watched her face for another moment before leaning in to smell her hair.  He nuzzled the side of her neck, then the front, then licked along the neckline of her tunic.

 

“All over?” Zira asked.  Jivvaar nodded. “Need me to take that off?”

 

“If you are OK with that.”

 

Zira pulled off the tunic.  Jivvaar nosed and licked his way along her collar bones.  He nuzzled her breast through their bindings. Zira sat up and pulled at where the end was tucked in.  Jivvaar unwrapped her like a present. Her breasts were full and soft and slightly creased from where the fabric had been pressing on them,  He stroked them gently with his fingers. His callouses catching on her skin. He lapped at them with his tongue trying to ease any scratches he may have made.

 

Zira gasped.  Jivvaar froze.  “Am I hurting you?” he asked softly, looking up at her. Zira’s eyes and lips were squeezed shut, she shook her head, no.  “Need me to stop?” 

 

*Shake*

 

Jivvaar grinned.  “Want more?”

 

*NodNodNod*

 

He laughed gently and went back to licking her, carefully scraping his tusks over her skin.  He found a nipple and gave it an experimental nibble.

 

He was rewarded with another gasp. Jivvaar stopped again.  Zira whined a little and whimpered softly, “more, please.” Jivvaar grinned into her skin before lapping at the other side.

 

“Um.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“You don’t have to be quite that careful.  The, uh, other thing was nice.” Jivvaar scraped his teeth over her breast.  Zira gasped again, her body was more ready for him than it ever had been for her husband. Her hands fluttered at her side.  

 

Jivvaar noticed and sat up. Her eyes had squeezed shut but she opened them and peered at him in the gloom of the tent.  Jivvaar caught her right hand and smelled her palm, then pressed it to his cheek. “Do you need me to stop?”

 

*ShakeShakeShake*

 

“I need to hear you.” he said softly.

 

“I want…” she stopped and tried to think of all the things she wanted.  She wanted him to keep touching her, she wanted to stroke his hair and hold his mouth to her breast where his tongue felt so good. She wanted… things women were not supposed to want and certainly not supposed to be begging male orcs for. “I don’t even know what I want.  But I like what you are doing.”

 

That was quite the right thing to say.  Jivvaar had gone all still and that wasn’t what she wanted at all.  Don’t push him! She told herself. Get too grabby or demanding with a man and he will put you in your place. She knew this.  And Jivvaar wasn’t even a man he was -

 

He was pinching her nipples and nuzzling her belly.  Zira felt one kind of tension drain from her body, even as another was building.  Her hips bucked against her will. She blushed hard and could feel Jivvaar smile into her skin.  He ran his thumb along the waist of her smalls. Zira reached down to where the drawstring was tied at her side and undid the bow.  

 

She was acting like a whore and she didn’t even care.  Her husband would never take her back after she had followed a tribe of orcs.  Jivvaar was going to leave eventually. She could enjoy this now while it was on offer.  

 

Jivvaar tensed.  He hadn’t even asked for that. He wanted her to do it, but she smelled anxious.  He stoked his hand over her, petting her soft belly. That was calming. Which was weird.  Wasn’t she worried? Didn’t she know how easy it would be to disembowel her? She trusted him with her softness, but was nervous about just untying her frillies.

 

“Still OK?” he asked.

 

Zira nodded.  “I trust you.”

 

“But you are afraid.  I can stop.”

 

Now Zira looked worried, “Did I do something wrong?  I don’t want you to stop.”

 

Jivvaar pressed cupped the back of her neck and pressed their foreheads together again.  He breathed her smell and said. “You don’t have-” and was cut off and both her hands cupped the back of his neck and she slammed her lips against his.  O...kay… He kissed her back and put his hand flat on her belly, sliding it down and cupping her mound through her smalls, nudging gently at her folds with just the very tips of his fingers.  Her hips bucked under his touch. She was soaked. “Can I take these off?” he asked quietly.

 

She nodded.

 

He clenched them in his fist and pulled.  They tore from her body and he brought them up to his nose to breathe deeply.  His eyes rolled back as the scent of her nearly overwhelmed him. “I want to taste you.” he said, desperately, “please let me taste you.”

 

*NODNODNOD!*

 

Good enough Jivvaar thought as he dove between her thighs, hooking her legs over his shoulders and licking her from pucker to clit. Jirak’s ghost!  The sweetness of her! He nosed hard at her clit as his tongue lapped at her cunt. Her whole body was trembling now. She wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate.  He could feel her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer to her.

 

Then suddenly they were. He looked up to see her fist clenched, pressed tight to her mouth as her whole body tensed.  He shifted up a little to lap at her clit as he slid a finger into her. A slight crooking of his finger, tapping it against her front wall was all it took to make her whole body flail and to start, yes, milking his finger.  He slowed the little licks he was giving her clit and a moment later she hissed and started to pull away.

 

“That was stop.” he said.

 

She nodded.

 

Jivvaar eased his finger out of her and licked it clean.  “Thank you.” he said softly.

 

Zira gave a little, nearly hysterical giggle.  “Thank YOU.” she said. “Your turn?” 

 

There was still a little fear behind that question.  “I can wait.” he said softly. “You need to sleep now.”

 

As if on queue, she yawned. Then laughed nervously and opened her eyes to look at him.  “Jivvaar?”

 

He cocked his head to the side and waited.

 

“Really, thank you.”

 

Jivvaar grinned.  “You’re welcome.”

 

It was the last thing Zira remembered before sleep found her.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> messy chapter

Jivvaar had heard of guilt.  It had been explained to him as the idea of regretting a past action.  It was a human thing. Orcs did not guilt. Something happened, it didn’t go as planned, you learned and moved on and did not make the same mistake again.

 

Jivvaar understood that he had lied to Zira.  He also understood that he was not capable of explaining what had happened - what needed to happen - any other way without causing her distress.  In time, she would come to understand. He didn’t have that time. 

 

He had not given her his scent.  He had taken hers.

 

He was not concerned that they would arrive in the winter camp and another orc would try to court her.  Let them try, he would out do them all.

 

He was not interested in courting someone else.  

 

He  _ was _ a little concerned is that an orcess in heat might see Zira as competition.  In a mating challenge, Zira would not just lose, she would be gravely injured.  Possibly fatally so.

 

He needed to be marked as part of a bonded pair.

 

This was a reasonably good start.

 

Jivvaar licked his lips.  The smell of her was heady enough, but her taste!  Better than he could have imagined. There were stories about hume females.  So far the one about licking them to completion was true. An orcess in heat would have no patience for that and therefore no interest.  He wondered how many other stories were true.

 

Delicate.  That one was true.  Zira’s skin was already growing cold.  He tucked her smaller body up against his and covered them both with a sleeping fur.  She gave a little sigh and rolled over, wrapping her arms around his chest. Yeah. That would work.

 

\----

 

Jivvaar was gone when Zira woke up.  She stretched. The space between her legs was still a bit drippy and she could feel that something had been inside of her.  She only remembered Jivvaar’s finger, but…

 

She quickly swirled a finger through the slick and inspected it.  No blood. She sniffed. Well, that answered that question. She wiped her hand on the fur and remembered Jivvaar saying he would break her.  She shivered. It had been a long while since her husband had visited her, but Jivvaar’s finger felt almost as big as his, what did the orc call it?  As her husband’s wedding tackle.

 

A quick hunt didn’t turn up her underthings.  She blushed as she remembered what had happened to them.  But they must be around here somewhere. Maybe she could mend them.

 

No luck.  She bound her breasts, put on her tunic and leggings, and went to find some water.  The orcs always camped near a well or a stream. She could at least wipe down a little.

 

As soon as she stepped out of the tent, the tribe was staring at her.  She ducked her head and walked around the perimeter of the camp to get to the pond.  Some of the elders were gathering water. The one who always frowned at her, frowned.  But Rika handed her a wet cloth and pointed over to where there were bushes growing along the stream.  Red faced, ZIra went to get cleaned up.

 

When she was done, Sayass put her hand on Zira’s back and led her back to camp.  “You know this means you can no longer ride in my caravan, right?”

 

Zira whimpered.  “No. I didn’t know that.”  She thought about her shoes and if she could keep up with the tribe.  Well, they didn’t travel further than she could walk in a day. She would miss the mid day meal.  Maybe Sayass would save her some food when she arrived late for the evening one.

 

Sayass laughed and slapped her on the back, nearly knocking her over.  “Don’t look so worried.”

 

Zira made it back to the camp to see Jivvaar packing up his tent and loading it on to his pack horse.  Grakk was standing next to him and grinning. Oh gods, she thought, just give me a rock to crawl under and die.  Jivvaar was his usual serious self. Grakk coughed. Jivvaar’s expression softened when he saw her. He held out his hand and when she took it, he dragged her over to where someone was serving gruel out of a large pot.  

 

He got her a bowlful and told her to eat.

 

She kept her head bowed and concentrated on eating.  By the time she was finished, camp was packed up, the caravans were starting to roll out.  Rika grabbed the bowl she was using and hurried off. Zira looked around. Jivvaar had packed up her fur blanket too.  OK, so all she had to do was get herself to where ever they were camping that night. She could probably do that. She started walking.  

 

Jivvaar’s horse came up alongside her.  Back home it would be a draft horse. It was huge.  He blocked out the sun. “What are you doing?”

 

“Um, Sayass said I can’t ride with her anymore, so I need to keep up on my own.”

 

Jivvaar snorted and held out his hand.  “Because you ride with me now.” She stared up at him  then took his hand. “Other hand.” He said patiently. She gave him her other hand.  He pulled her up behind him. 

 

She gave a startled squeak and held on for dear life.  After a while she stopped being afraid. Then, a while later, she started being bored.  She sighed. Her legs hurt.

 

“What’s wrong?”  Jivvaar demanded.

 

“Nothing!  I’m just not used to riding.”

 

“So?  Sit back and enjoy the scenery.”

 

Zira considered this.  She suspected Jivvaar would tolerate a little bit of back talk.  Maybe. “The only thing I can see is the massive muscular orc blocking my view.”

 

Jivvaar stopped his horse.

 

Oh no.  He slid off and pushed her forward then swung up behind her.  One hand on her belly and the other on the reins, he got his horse moving again.  “Better?” he asked.

 

Um…now she could feel his dick grinding into her back.  She looked around. He seemed to be ignoring it, so she would too.

 

Jivvaar rode with this back straight and tall, scanning the horizon for…things?  When she rode with Sayass, they would talk about the tribe. The horsemen were all quiet and alert.

 

Horsemen.  She peeked over at Raj-ak.  Zira had never seen anyone like him before.  She hadn’t really been brave enough to ask. To Zira’s eyes, Raj-ak looked female, but the entire tribe used male pronouns for him.  She didn’t understand quite how that worked. There is a big difference in appearance between a male orc and a female orc. About a foot in height and nearly the same in width.  Raj-ak dressed, hunted, acted like and was referred to as male. But his body type wasn’t.

 

Zira wondered if he was a gelding, but there was no polite way to ask, and she wasn’t actually interested in finding out what he had in his pants.  She mentally categorized him as “orcs work differently that what she could expect,” and went with that.

 

Except now he had seen her staring.  Zira shivvered. Jivvaar looked down at her.

 

Raj-ak pulled his horse over, “Your pet is looking at me. You need to teach it some manners, Jivvaar.”

 

Jivvaar snorted, “Leave Raj-ak alone, little one.”

 

Zira whispered softly, “I was admiring his tattoos.”

 

Raj-ak looked startled, then pleased.  He snorted and rode on.

 

Jivvaar gave Zira the reins.  He adjusted his cloak so that it crossed her body just below her chin, then came up and was pinned in place at his left shoulder.  He put his right hand flat on her belly and took the reins in his left. “Hold on at the base of Strider’s mane.” Zira did so. Jivvaar nodded.  “Good. Now if you need me to stop, I will. Understand?”

 

Zira tensed, but nodded expecting him to spur the horse faster.  What he did was slide his right hand under her tunic so that it rested on the skin of her belly.  Zira gasped loud enough that Grakk came over.

 

“Is she alright, brother?” Grakk asked.

 

Jivvaar shrugged.  “She was shivering earlier.  Are you alright Zira? Do you need me to stop?”

 

Zira blushed and looked down.  “I’m fine,” she mumbled.

 

Grakk looked at his brother.  “You are too stoic to keep a female.  They want you to talk to them.”

 

“And what am I to say?”

 

Grakk shrugged.  “The riders might be around the caravans watching for threats, but it is the matriarchs that guide us.  We are following them. The riders watch for preditors and bandits hiding in the tall grass -” here Jivvaar’s fingers dipped into Zira’s tights and began to gently stroke her hair, while seeming to completely ignore her “- or trees.” Grakk said, oblivious to what was going on under Jivvaar’s cloak.

 

Zira squeaked.

 

“Are you sure you are alright?” Grakk asked sounding a little worried.

 

Zira nodded.  “Um… who would be foolish enough to attack a horde of orcs?”

 

Grakk snorted, “You would be surprised.  A pack of bandits. A pack of core hounds, dire hyenas, some devilsaurs-”

 

Jivvaar’s hand dipped even lower and his fingers trailed over her clit.  Zira gasped.

 

Grakk abruptly added, “But those creatures are far away and it isn’t likely here.  I am not trying to scare you.”

 

Jivvaar nodded, ignoring that his fingers were sliding over Zira’s folds, his calluses providing friction to her soft flesh.  She put her hand on his wrist and he stopped moving his fingers. Zira took a couple of deep breaths. 

 

Jivvaar sighed and started to pull his hand away. He was surprised when he met with a slight resistance.  Zira was holding his wrist in place. Jivvaar fought a grin as he said, “Don’t worry, I will protect you from all the creatures Grakk just named.  It will be easy since they are all at least a week’s ride away.” He glared at his brother, who shrugged.

 

Zira looked between the two of them.  Then she turned to Grakk, “What was Jivvaar like growing up?  I have come to suspect he was a mischievous boy.”

 

Just for that, Jivvaar began to move his fingers again.  Zira did not pull his hand away, but did keep a tight grip on his wrist.  

 

Zira leaned back against him. She was half listening to Grakk talk about the time Jivvaar had pissed off a bearlin and gotten the both of them chased up a tree.  Grakk’s description of the two of them stuck in a tree for hours made her smile. Jivvaar’s fingers were just languidly stroking her folds. It was almost soothing.  Every now and then they would find a place that would make her shiver.

 

“It wasn’t hours,” Jivvaar sullenly protested, pressing a little harder. 

 

Zira hissed and tightened her grip on his wrist. 

 

Grakk gave them an odd look, his nose twitching. Suddenly he grinned at Zira. 

 

She blushed as hard as she ever had. Jivvaar just raised a eyebrow. Grakk laughed. “I’ll just leave you two alone then.”

 

Jivvaar slowed his horse so that they eventually fell behind.  He bowed his head and pressed his lips to the top of Zira’s head. “Want to taste you,” he rumbled. 

 

“I don’t have any more clothes for you to rip.”

 

Jivvaar just snorted. “Won’t.”

 

He stopped Strider and slid off, then led the horse to a stand of trees and tied her reins to a branch.  Then he lifted Zira off. Her legs wobbled. She held tightly to his biceps, little fingers pressing into his skin where they couldn’t span his arms.   Jivvaar grinned, “Did I make you weak in the knees?”

 

“Um….yes, but I am also not used to riding a horse.”

 

Jivvaar actually laughed out loud at that, scaring a flock of birds from the tree.  He ducked his head and pressed his forehead to hers, breathing in her smell. “Want you,” he growled.

 

Zira’s eyes went wide.  She nodded. Jivvaar thought about the logistics of this.  “If you already knew my body, I would fuck you against one of the trees.  But it will be a while before you are ready for that.” She just waited. Jivvaar spread his cloak on the ground and then spread Zira on his cloak.  He worked her leggings down and off and brought them to his face to smell. His eyes closed, he whispered, “That’s for me.”

 

He opened his eyes and saw Zira watching him quizzically.  He tossed the leggings aside and pounced on her, making are squeal.  He grinned, “Out here, I don’t want you to bite your hands to be quiet.  I want to hear all your noises.” 

 

Zira nodded and reached up to caress his face before kissing his lips and running her hands down his chest.  She giggled when she found she couldn’t kiss his mouth and reach his belt at the same time, then tried to slide down so that she could.

 

Jivvaar laughed, “Eager?  No. You need to be able to take more than my finger before you are ready for that.”  He pulled her up and cupped her ass with both hands watching her for a moment before lifting her ass off his cloak and bringing her cunt to his lips.  He inhaled deeply, breathing as much of her scent into his lungs as he could. When his breath ghosted over her as he sighed, she shivered and mewled. He gave her a lecherous grin then nearly attacked her soft lips with his.  Her body squirmed in his hands as he lapped up her juices.

 

He watched as she writhed and gasped.  Her legs started to shake and her hips bucked in his hands.  He pulled away.

 

ZIra’s eyes flew open and she cried out, “No!” then quickly covered her mouth and gave him a  worried look. 

 

Jivvaar watched her for a moment. “Tell me what to do,” he said softly.

 

She struggled to find the words before settling on, “That.  Do more of that.”

 

Jivvaar chuckled.  “Fingers?” Zira nodded.  Jivvaar sighed, “Tell me what you want, Zira.”  Jivvaar was expecting her to whine for him. So he was surprised when she wiggled out of his grasp and sat up.

 

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment then asked, “Is this a trap or can I really say what I want?”

 

Now Jivvaar was intrigued. “It is not a trap.  Tell me what you like.”

 

She looked at him for a moment.  Then she took a deep breath, blew it out and said.  “I want you to lay on your back with your hands behind your head.”

 

Jivvaar raised an eyebrow.  Zira looked away, and crumpled in on herself.  Jivvaar lay on his back with his hands behind his head.  Zira nodded. “Don’t… Just stay like that, OK? Don’t try to help.”

 

“What do you have planned?”

 

Zira didn’t answer, but went for the laces on his pants.  Jivvaar fought the instinct to bat her hands away. “Don’t go scaring yourself.  I’m not using that until you’re ready.”

 

Suddenly Zira was looking hard at his face.  “I am not going to hurt myself. If you hold still, you won’t hurt me either.”

 

Jivvaar considered this.  “Alright.” There didn’t seem to be much else to say.

 

She got his pants down and his cock sprang free.  She stared at him in shock. Jivvaar was suddenly a little self conscious.  “I don’t have warts or sores or anything.”

 

Zira looked up at him and shook her head.  “Very still, understand?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”  He could see where that surprised her.  She recovered and gave him a shy smile. 

 

Zira licked up the underside of him straddled his body and rubbed her dripping folds along his length.  Keeping his cock pinned to his belly, she began to rock along his length. Her tits bounced, her eyes rolled back and closed.  Her hands pressed hard on his chest. Jivvaar groaned and started to reach for her hips.

 

She slapped his hands away.

 

Holy shit, she ACTUALLY slapped his hands away.  

 

That was way hotter than it should have been.  His cock was leaking even more now. Her whole body was trembling on top of him.  Jivvaar forced his eyes to stay open and watch as she found her pleasure and fell forward.  This pinned the head of him against her clit and he could feel her cunt fluttering along his length.  

 

Jivvaar came with a roar as the world went white.

 

 

Jivvaar lay panting, his skin beaded with sweat.  “That was not what I had expected.” 

 

Zira laughed weakly, “I didn’t want to get crushed.”

 

Jivvaar put a careful hand on Zira’s back and gently stroked.

 

“Mmmmm….”

 

Now he laughed, “I didn’t know that humans could purr.”

 

“I do not purr!”

 

“Shame, it was a nice sound.”

 

“What sound do orcesses make?”

 

Jivvaar lifted his head up to look at her.  She was laying with her belly on his, but had her elbows on his chest to push up and look at him.  He searched her face but only saw curiosity. “Sometimes they howl.”

 

“Like wolves?”

 

“More like cats.  What about hume males?”

 

“My husband would bellow like a cow.”

 

Jivvaar laughed, “Cows moo!”

 

“You have clearly never spent much time around cows.”

 

Jivvaar laughed harder.  Zira grabbed his shoulders to try to avoid sliding off.  “Now  _ that _ is a nice sound,” she said.  

 

Jivvaar rolled them over and pressed his forehead to her’s.  He smiled down at her. Then something occurred to him and he stopped smiling.  “Was your husband a Tauren?”

 

Zira’s eyes went wide.  Then she burst out laughing.  It was a full belly laugh, complete with tears streaming down her face.

 

“I’ll take that as a no, then.” Jivvaar said flatly.

 

“Well, it was an arranged marriage, but, no… he was -  IS human.”

 

Jivvaar pressed his forehead to hers again.  “That was nice. I wouldn’t have thought to ask for that.  It’s nice having a woman that knows what she’s doing.”

 

It was the wrong thing to say.  Zira was immediately angry and wiggled out from under him.  She stood up and looked around for her leggings. Her whole posture radiating anger.

 

“I was not trying to upset you.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Tell me so I can make sure not to do upset you like that again.”

 

Zira sighed and sat down holding her leggings.  She looked at them and said, “I miss having panties.”

 

“You are upset that I ripped them.”

 

“NO!” It was a shout.  Then Zira flinched. “No.  I don’t know what I’m doing.  I was married for five years and my husband never cared if I enjoyed myself.  He didn’t help me feel that. Not even once. Mating was sometimes a punishment and any pleasure I found had to be by myself and in secret.  I don’t know what I’m doing. Around any of this!”

 

Jivvaar just watched and waited for her to wind down.

 

She wiped his seed off her belly and rubbed her hand on the grass.

 

“Let me clean up my mess.”  He said.

 

She gave him a look that he didn’t understand.  Fear, disbelief, confusion… 

 

“What?” he asked.

 

Zira just shook her head.  “I don’t understand you.”

 

“Oh!  Let me lick you clean.” That didn’t really help make her calm down.  If anything she looked more skeptical. Jivvaar considered this, “I take it your husband left you to take care of his mess on your own.”

 

*Nod*

 

“I had heard stories that human males did not care for their mates.  I had no idea it was this bad. I know better. Let me take care of you.”

 

Still the wrong thing to say, if anything her mood blackened further.  Jivvaar considered this. He really needed to stop talking about her husband.

 

“I’m not your mate.”

 

Jivvaar froze.

 

“I understand you - your tribe is going to the wintering grounds to find mates.  I understand that I’m just sort of here as …. practice and-”

 

“Who told you that?” Jivvaar kept his voice low and even and tried not to let the rage he felt about being so slandered show.

 

Zira looked up at him.  “You didn’t want to court me.  You are just here to show up Yeruk.”

 

“I assure you, that is not true.  I want you as my mate. Do you really think I will find an orcess who would be brave walk away from her settlement, chasing a horde of raiders?  Who would walk until she was ready to collapse in the hope of a group of monsters turn out -”   
  


“You aren’t monsters.  When the orcs raided the barn where I was being kept, none of them hurt the women.  You aren’t monsters. I ran away from the monsters when I followed you.”

 

Jivvaar watched Zira.  She was afraid. She still hadn’t put her leggings on.  She was avoiding looking at him. Well, his mother always said, “Figure out want you want, then go for it.”

 

“Zira?”  Now she looked at him, “Please let me clean you.”

 

Her face turned red but she nodded.  Jivvaar spent another few minutes licking her until she came again, then carefully licking up her juices.  He helped her on with her leggings and lifted her onto his horse. “There will be places to buy you clothes when we get to the wintering grounds,”  he said as he swung up behind him.

 

“You are really planning on keeping me?” Zira asked.

 

“If you will have me,” Jivvaar answered.

 

\----

 

They caught up with the horde in time for mid day meal.  Jivvaar got knowing grins from a number of orcs. Zira frowned at Grakk.  

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“You have a big mouth,” Zira muttered.

 

Now he laughed.  “Maybe, but my brother also has a cum stain on his belly.  So, when do I get to start calling you sister?”

 

Elias grinned, “She might find someone she likes better when we get to the wintering grounds.”

 

Grakk laughed, “Why do you think I want to get this formalized?  Not just anyone can put up with my surly ass brother.”

 

Zira blanched.  She hadn’t thought about that.  She couldn’t get anything formalized with Jivvaar.  She was still married. On the other hand, maybe her husband would divorce her for adultery.  That perked her up a little. Technically, that could come with a jail sentence, but Jivvaar wouldn’t let them take her…. Would he?  No. Better to keep her head down and not draw attention to herself. She tried to remember how much she had told Jivvaar about her past.

 

While she was lost in thought, Jivvaar came over with a bowl of food for her.  She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

 

Jivvaar grunted, watching her face.  “Need me to teach these boys a lesson?”

 

“What?  Why?”

 

“They are bothering you.”

 

Zira shrugged.  “I am ignoring them.”  Then she thought some more, “Are they bothering you?”

 

“Nah.” Jivvaar glared at the two and said, “I’ve had plenty of time to get used to these idiots.”

 

Zira nodded and took a spoonful of her…. “Jivvaar?  What is this?”

 

“Beans and rice.” Grakk said.  “There’s some venison in there too.  And some spices.”

 

Zira took a bite.  It was good, but like all orc food it tasted unfamiliar.  “I wonder if I could cook sometime.” She looked over at the huge cooking pot.  “Maybe not. I don’t usually cook on that scale.”

 

They were all watching her.  Jivvaar coughed. “Um…. I will hunt for you anytime you want to cook for us.”

 

He was being extra formal, Zira noticed.  “That has meaning that I don’t understand, doesn’t it?”

 

The three males nodded slowly.

 

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

 

The three males shook their heads.

 

Zira sighed and resolved to ask Sayass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make the writing go


	4. Chapter 4

When they moved on after lunch, Jivvaar put Zira on the horse in front of him again. Elias fought not to grin.  Grakk, however, was beaming happily at that. ZIra blushed and ducked her head.

 

“Are you ashamed of me, Zira?” 

 

Her head snapped up and she turned to look at Jivvaar, almost falling off the horse in the process.  He caught her easily.

 

“No!  It’s just that…” she trailed off and tried to think about how to explain.  “Mating is supposed to be done in secret.”

 

“Who says?”

 

Zira floundered to answer that question.  “Everyone I know. Knew.”

 

“Everyone who didn’t think you were worth taking care of?  OR rescuing?”

 

That stung.  But it was true.  She nodded.

 

“Mating is never a secret for us.  We can all smell what has happened and when.  It is a good thing. If someone is abusing their mate, the whole tribe with know.  We can intervene. Do not let it upset you that the tribe knows. They will keep you safe if I overstep.”

 

Jivvaar kept his hand on the outside of her clothes that afternoon.  With the sun shining on her and Jivvaar’s warm body holding her close, Zira nodded off.

 

\----

 

Jivvaar was nuzzling the top of her head.  “Wake up, little one. It is time to make camp.”

 

Zira blinked awake.  Jivvaar’s horse had stopped.  The caravans were arranged in a circle.  Orcs were starting to gather firewood and Grakk was standing next to them.  Jivvaar nodded to his brother. “Make sure she can stand before you let her go,” he instructed.

 

Grakk laughed, “I have seen you naked, brother, you aren’t that big.”

 

“She isn’t used to riding.  And it is more about her being that small.”

 

Zira put her hands on Grakk’s shoulders as he pulled her off the horse.  Jivvaar was right, her legs felt like jelly.

 

Jivvaar swung off his horse and handed the reins to Grakk before scooping up Zira and carrying her over to where Sayass was sitting.  He placed her carefully on a blanket Sayass had laid out, then nodded to the elder before going to help set up camp.

 

Zira watched. She tried to reposition her legs so that they hurt less.  They twitched under her, no longer in her control. She sighed and tried to rub some life back into them.  When she looked up, Sayaas was watching. Zira remembered something.

 

“Sayass?  At lunch, I asked about taking a turn cooking and, um, the males all looked at me funny -”

 

Sayass burst out laughing.

 

“I don’t understand.”  Zira felt a little betrayed.

 

Sayass wiped her eyes.  “You are being officially courted by a member of our tribe.  If you choose him as your mate, you and your tribe would be responsible for catering the wedding.”

 

Zira gaped at Sayass.  “I am the daughter of a soap merchant!  I can feed a small family or party plan for fifty and instruct the house girls what to prepare, but I have no idea how to feed a tribe of orcs!” 

 

Sayass just shook her head.  “You told me you know how to make soap.  Offered to teach me how.”

 

“You can’t eat soap.”

 

“No.  But you can sell soap.  Do you think we are secretly carrying all the supplies to build a caravan?  No. We will sell our skills to pay for cartwrights. There is no reason why you could not do the same.”

 

Zira didn’t say anything.  It was different with orcs, maybe she could sell soap.  She would need help getting started. She didn’t have any supplies.

 

“Sayass?  I don’t want to be offensive, but … I don’t understand about Raj-ak.”

 

Sayass sighed.  “Don’t you worry about him.  He won’t be courting you. When we get to the winter grounds, he will be very popular and you won’t have to see him for a while.”

 

Zira looked at her hands, “Why does it bother everyone that I see him?”

 

“Humes don’t understand.  They get angry when they see orcs like him.”

 

“I am not angry.  I am just confused.”

 

Sayass sighed,  “Does he smell good to you?”

 

“What?”

 

“You want to fuck him?”

 

Zira blushed and shook her head.

 

“Then why is it any of your business what he looks like or what he has in his pants?”

 

“Oh.”  Zira thought about that for a moment.  “I guess it isn’t.”

 

“There you go!  Humes seem to have a hard time with that idea.”

 

\----

 

It took her a few minutes but Zira was able to get to her feet and stumble off to find a bush to water.  She washed her hands in the pond and went to see if there was anything she could help with. 

 

In the end, she sat behind Jivvaar and resumed last nights work of rebraiding his hair.  As she worked, various orcs came over and offered her advice. It turned out, orcs took hair very seriously, what she has thought were dreadlocks or simple braids were actually complicated plaits.  There were often many beads in a single plait.

 

She considered the next briad.  One braid the size of her finger  capped off with a medium bead then braided with two more thin strands, six small beads woven in and all of it held together at the end by a larger bead.  It was starting to unravel, and clearly needed to be redone, but…

 

“I don’t know how to do this.”  Jivvaar peeked over his shoulder at her. “What happens if I undo it and can’t figure out how to put it back.”

 

Kraal came over and sat next to Zira with a huff.  She snatched the plait from Zira’s fingers and bega ripping out the beads, ignoring Jivvaar’s winces as she did so. She picked up the comb and dragged it through his hair, pulling out the knots as she went.  “Braid this first,” she commanded. She took the knife and cut off the ends before jamming on the medium bead. “This one symbolized when we were on campaign for the regent of Hollyhead. This bead is for when Jivvaar killed the captain of the guard-”

 

“Graal.” Jivvaar said warningly.

 

“You are a warrior, not a merchant.  She needs to know this.” Graal took another two strands and slipped beads on them before braiding them with the thicker braid. ”These six beads represent the other six soldiers that were in the barracks that he also killed.”  Graal did another couple of crossovers then added the next two beads, then repeated adding the last two. “This big bead is silver because he was in the throne room when the lord was killed. If he had died by Jivvaar’s blade, it would be a gold bead.”

 

“All these beads are kills?” Zira asked quietly.  There were a lot of beads.

 

“Yes.  The metal ones are made from loot taken from the bodies.  The bone ones are made of the remains of large predators he killed up close.  With a knife or his hands, not a bow. Our Jivvaar is a good warrior. A good hunter.  He will be a good orc husband.” Graal said.

 

Zira considered this.  She didn’t think Graal liked her very much.  But, she was also the one who had chided Yerug for not keeping her warm and who had just taken the time to explain about hair beading when no one else had bothered.  She looked up at the elder. She had many beads in her hair.

 

Sayass had fewer and hers were mostly bone..  Raj-ak had fewer than Jivvaar but more than Sayass.

 

“What do the glass ones mean?” Zira asked quietly.  Both Sayass and Graal had glass beads. Jivvaar, Grakk, Yerug, Elias and Raj-ak did not.

 

This was not the right question to ask.  Suddenly everyone was watching closely to see what Graal would say.

 

“They are for children.  One near the root is a pregnancy. One near the middle is a live birth.  One at the end is a child raised to adulthood.” WIth that she stood and left.  Zira noticed she had many glass beads near the roots of her hair but only two at the ends.  She felt a great swell of sympathy, it was better than Zira had ever managed.

 

At some point, Zira ended up sitting on Jivvaar’s lap as he combed out her hair.  It was surprisingly relaxing. The last person who had treated her with such care had been her wet nurse.  A heavy set peasant woman who had loved Zira in a way her mother could not. Zira’s parents had been busy climbing the social ladder and preferred to spend time with her brothers.  

 

When Zira was ten, Mary had been sent away.  After that she was responsible for her own appearance for a year until her father suddenly got the idea that an arranged marriage might be useful.  At which point her parents had hired a governess whose job it was to teach Zira how to be a dutiful and respectful wife.

 

Zira had hated Anne with an unholy passion.

 

Jivvaar made Zira feel small and cared for again.

 

Among other things.

 

But for now, she was sitting calmly in his lap chatting with Sayass and getting her hair combed.

 

Rika was watching her.  The orc women had been nice enough when she first arrived, in a teasing sort of way.  But the last couple of days, they were all getting irritable. ZIra wondered if they all bled together.  She always tried to be respectful, especially given how much smaller she was than any of the adults in the horde. Just now, however, Rika was watching her in an uncomfortably predatory way.

 

ZIra was trying to ignore her.

 

Suddenly the orc woman snarled and jumped at ZIra, who flung herself away. In a flash, Jivvaar and Sayass had stood up, placing themselves between Zira and Rika and Raj-ak had grabbed the woman’s arms and pushed her to the ground.  Raj-ak leaned in, his lips to Rika ear and growled something Zira couldn’t quite make out, but the orcess’s eyes when wide and she allowed Raj-ak to drag her away from the fire.

 

It took Zira a few moments to stop shaking.  When she had finally calmed done enough to speak, she asked, “What did I do to offend her?”

 

Sayass rubbed her back.  “You did nothing. We are just all on edge, waiting to get to the wintering grounds.  Tomorrow we will stop in the town of Willowdale and beyond that is the Orc stronghold of Porthcawl.  Everyone will be a lot calmer once we get there.”

 

There was a commotion a little ways to the left of where Zira was sitting, in the direction Rika and Raj-ak had gone.  Raj-ak wasn’t that much bigger than Rika. “Is Raj-ak going to be ok with Rika when she is angry?”

 

That got a round of laughs from the remaining orcs.  Jivvaar coughed. “He’ll be fine. He is going to be happy to get to sample Rika’s honey.”

 

ZIra opened her mouth to ask what he meant by then, then noticed how he looked slightly uncomfortable and how all the other orcs were leering.  “Oh.” Now she blushed. She also remembered what Jivvaar had said about mating in public and was now also uncomfortable. She was ashamed to admit, even to herself, that a part of her wanted to go watch.

 

Zira shivvered a little at the thought.

 

“Are you cold?  Do you need me to get your fur, or are you ready to go to our tent?” Jivvaar rumbled, his voice deeper than it had been.

 

Our tent.  That was new.

 

Grakk laughed, “I think my brother wants to sample your honey.”

 

Zira ducked her head and looked at her hands.  She could feel herself blushing even harder. That might not be a bad thing, she was definitely feeling flushed at the idea of Rika and Raj-ak.  Her mind was full of questions that she didn’t know how to ask. For example, she was fairly certain that Raj-ak had not been courting Rika. And she still wasn’t sure why Rika had lunged at her.

 

Sayass was watching her.  She met the elder’s eyes and shrugged.  Sayass sighed, “Humans don’t go into heat.  Orcesses don’t very often, but it is a trying time for all of us.”

 

That raised a lot of questions that she was pretty sure she shouldn’t voice out loud, like how could Raj-ak - 

 

Oh.  Sample her honey.  Right. 

 

Oh.

 

Zira jumped when Jivvaar put his hand on her back.  He pulled it away. Zira sighed and leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest.  

 

Grakk gave her a happy grin.  “I want at least one of each, nephews and nieces.”

 

Zira closed her eyes and her face against Jivvaar’s chest feeling a great sadness well up in her.  She was able to keep her shoulders from shaking, but the tears ran regardless. Jivvaar bent down and kissed the top of her head.  He rubbed her back. “Nevermind him. Grakk is an idiot.”

 

“I can’t give you that.”

 

“It doesn’t really matter.” Jivvaar assured her.

 

Grakk frowned, “What?”

 

Zira wiped her eyes and turned to look at him.  “I can’t have children,” she whispered, knowing that orc hearing would pick up what she said.

 

Grakk looked appalled.  

 

Zira closed her eyes.  “I was married for five years.  I didn’t even get pregnant, never mind have a live birth.”

 

“Are you sure-” Grakk started.

 

Zira glared at him.  “I know how babies are made.  We tried. Then my husband knocked up the maid and it became apparent that the problem was me.”

 

“Ok.”  Grakk looked deeply embarrassed.

 

ZIra shivvered again and got up to go to Jivvaar’s tent.  No one tried to stop her. Jivvaar did not follow. When she was almost out of earshot, she could hear him swearing at his brother.

 

\----

 

The horde reached Willowdale shortly after night fall.  It was a walled city and they had to go passed a checkpoint to get in.  The guards clearly knew the orcs, even greeting many of them by name.

 

Jivvaar had dismounted and was walking his horse.  Zira was going to as well since only nobility were allowed to ride within the city walls, but Jivvaar had insisted she stay on the horse as long as she could.  “It is a long way to the inn where we will be staying. Save your feet for once we are inside.”

 

But as they approached the guard station, Zira slipped off and stood next to him.

 

The guard grinned broadly at Jivvaar and the two clasped each other’s wrists in a friendly greeting.  “Back again, are you, Jivvaar? Finally going to find a mate and settle down?” the man teased.

 

“May have already found one, if she’ll keep me.”

 

Zira blushed a little at that.

 

“Oh?  And who’s the lucky lady?”

 

Jivvaar gently led Zira forward.  “This is Zira. She is allowing me to court her.”

 

Suddenly the guard had his hand on his sword.  “Jivvaar, have you stolen the duchess?”

 

Jivvaar looked blankly at the man, “What?”

 

“The Duchess Zira of Northton was stolen by bandits six months ago.  Was it your horde?”

 

Zira shook her head, “I am not a duchess, I am a slave.  Jivvaar stole me from a slavers barn when they were raiding.”

 

The guard grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Jivvaar.  Zira cried out in alarm. Another guard stepped between them, “Easy there,” the new guard said, we just have some questions.

 

Grakk, Elias, and even Yerug came over to glare down at the man.  The guard holding Zira’s arm hustled her into the guard house.

 

“If you are the stolen duchess, you can tell me,” he said after he had closed the door.  We will bar the gates to the orcs and send word to you family.”

 

“I am not a duchess!” Zira said honestly.

 

The guard was watching her suspiciously when he said, “The old duke has died,  the young duke cannot be appointed until he and his wife turn up in court to have the titles bestowed upon them.  The queen is angry because when he arrived he brought a woman who was not his wife and a child who was not his own.”

 

Zira stared at him.  “I… I don’t know what you are talking about.  Honestly. Why would a duke bring another woman to court?”

 

The guard shrugged.  “He tried to pass her off as his wife, but the queen was aware of the duchess’s family.  She is quite fond of them.”

 

Zira shook her head.  “That is not me, I have never met the queen!”

 

The guard narrowed his eyes.  “Are you happy with Jivvaar? Willowdale does not allow the ownership of people.  If you were a slave, you are not within these walls. You do not have to travel with the orcs if you do not wish to.”

 

Zira looked at the man.  He was clearly worried on her behalf.  “Jivvaar has been truly kind to me. His horde has taken care of me.  I am happy where I am. Even if Grakk spends a lot of time teasing us about having children together.”

 

The guard looked relieved.  “This a good horde. They fought for us when we were under siege five years ago.  I love Jivvaar and Grakk like brothers. I wish you every happiness!”

 

When Zira came out of the guard house, the guards who had remained outside were looking decidedly nervous, the horde and surrounded them and were at their most menacing.  

 

Jivvaar cleared his throat, “Are you well?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbling with anger.

 

“Yes, I’m fine.  Your friend just wanted to make sure you were being kind to me.”

 

Jivvaar grunted.  Zira came over and hugged him around his middle,  he ducked his head and sniffed her hair and forced himself to relax.  As he did, the other orcs subtly put away all the weapons they had been holding.

 

The guard shrugged, “If someone had stolen one of your wives, I would try to recover them as well,” he chided the orcs.

 

Jivvaar didn’t say anything until they made it to the inn.  He ordered a bath and food sent up to their room. Once the door closed, he sat on the bed so that he was at eye level with Zira and asked, “Are you the stolen duchess?”

 

Zira giggled nervously, “I told you, I am the daughter of a soap merchant!”

 

Jivvaar just watched her.

 

“Are you going to send me away?” Zira asked quietly.

 

“No.”

 

“Thank you.”  Zira whispered.

 

They both jumped at the knock on the door as the servants called that the bath was ready.


	5. Chapter 5

Zira was almost bouncing with excitement.  The inn had a real bathtub! And it was huge!  Big enough for an orc, made out of cast iron, it was right next to a pot bellied stove to heat the water and keep it warm.

 

Jivvaar watched as she fondled the towels and smelled the soap. “So… how would the daughter of a soap merchant end up as a duchess?”

 

Zira froze.  “She wouldn’t.  The best she could manage was being married to a duke’s fourth son.”

 

Jivvaar considered this.

 

“Not important enough to bother paying the ransom for, remember?”  Then she turned and peeked up at him, “I’ll wash your back, if you like.”

 

Jivvaar snorted.  “You go first. You aren’t big enough to dirty the water.”

 

Zira gave a happy little squeal, then flung her arms around Jivvaar hugging him tightly.  He gently stroked her back and she let him go. Blushing furiously she mumbled, “Sorry. That was a little embarrassing.  But this could easily be the nicest anyone has ever been to me.”

 

“Letting you bathe first?” Jivvaar scoffed.

 

“And feeding me and keeping me safe and not handing me over to the guards and …. Everything.”  Zira stepped into the tub with a sigh. “I know I am a problem for you. I am always a problem for everyone.  I don’t pull my own weight, I don’t earn my keep. You have absolutely no reason to be kind to me.”

 

Jivvaar leaned against the door.  “I got used to having you around.”

 

Zira looked up from lathering the soap to grin at him.

 

Jivvaar considered this next bit carefully.  “I would be happy to take you to the wintering grounds as my mate.  But if you wish to go back to your husband, this is the time to say.  I trust the guards here to make sure you are returned safely.”

 

Zira’s face fell, she dropped her gaze to her lap.  “I don’t trust my husband to keep me safe. Not when he has found someone he likes better.” She was quiet for a few moments before turning slightly watery eye to look at Jivvaar and adiding softly, “Please let me stay with you.”

 

Jivvaar wanted to let it go at that, but, “It is more complicated than that.  We are going to the wintering lands. The tribe will need to know if you are there as the one I am courting, or if you are Sayass’s pet or if you are my mate.  We will need to be able to answer questions for the horde. I can’t make that decision for you, Zira.”

 

Zira ducked her head to rinse her hair and spent more time under the water than was completely necessary.  When she surfaced she said, “You are asking me to choose between three things when I don’t really understand any of them.  I like how we are together. How do I choose to stay like that?”

 

Jivvaar groaned.  “Slide forward, I’ll wash your back.”  To his surprise, she slid forward enough to give him room to get into the tub.  He knelt next to her instead. “I like how we are together too, but .. This isn’t the orcish way.  If you were an orc, your family would not let you sleep in my tent until they had seen us mate and were sure that you were happy with my performance.”  

 

Zira laughed nervously, “You are joking, right?”

 

Jivvaar solemnly shook his head, no.  “If you are to be my mate, the tribe will want to witness that.  If you are the woman I am courting, other orcs may try to woo you away from me.  Orcesses may try to challenge you. It would dishonor you for you to be sleeping in my tent.  If you are introduced as Sayass’s, then it will be seen that I available to be courted.”

 

Zira climbed out of the tub, “If you are with me, you will miss out on your chance to find an orc woman who can give you a family.”

 

“I am not worried about that.”

 

“You say that now, but-”

 

Jivvaar crossed the room and cupped her face with both hands, carefully turning her to look at him, “I am not worried about that. Understand?”

 

Zira looked up at him and gave him a shy smile.

 

Jivvaar nodded.  “Rika likes you and she still nearly challenged you for breeding rights.  You would be safest staying with Sayass.” Jivvaar sighed, then added, “I am selfish.  If you are with Sayass, I will barely be able to see you.” Jivvaar thought some more. “We are in a human settlement.  Would you marry me in the human way?”

 

Zira swallowed.  “I would.” Jivvaar looked pleased.  “But,” she continued, “I can’t without getting my husband to divorce me first.”  Jivvaar ground his teeth in frustration. “Get in the bath. Someone else will want the room when we are done.”

 

Jivvaar nodded, stripped and climbed into the tub.  Zira once again marveled at his body, scarred, green, bulky, muscular, big.  And kind. All the things her husband had not been. She peaked between his legs as she scrubbed his shoulders.  Women may say things like ‘Oooh! He’s so big!’ Men may compare their size to one another thinking the bigger the better.  Zira, however, had some serious doubts. The space between her legs was not a bottomless pit. Even with her short fingers, she could bear down and reach the end.  She trusted that Jivvaar would not try to hurt her, but she just couldn’t imagine how this would work. The idea of trying it with a horde of orcs cheering him on was completely terrifying.

 

“I have upset you.”

 

Zira startled out of her private musings.  “I am frustrated. I would miss you if you gave me back to Sayass.”

 

Jivvaar shook his head.  “Humans are strange. You are a person.  I can not  _ give _ you to Sayass. Where you go and what you do must be your decision.  I just want to know that you are safe.”

 

Zira considered this as she ran the washcloth over Jivvaar’s shoulder and around to was his armpit.  Whatever else she might have been thinking was completely when the massive orc jumped and started to laugh uncontrollably. 

 

“Are you ticklish?!”

 

“No!” Jivvaar growled.  Zira took a step back. “Don’t tell anyone,” he added.

 

Zira grinned.  “Where else aren’t you ticklish?” she asked mischievously.

 

Eventually, the innkeeper came and banged on the door about the bath water dripping into the cellar.

 

\----

 

Zira had cut down a orc child’s shirt and pants to fit her, but aside from that and the flour sack ‘dress’ she didn’t really have any clothes.  Nonetheless, she was beyond surprised when Jivvaar stood her on the table in the common room of the inn and announced, “I wish to buy clothing to fit this woman.  I am willing to pay extra to have it before we leave in the morning.”

 

She was even more surprised when a couple of women who were close to her size came forward and offered to sell her one of their dresses.  

 

Graal shook her head and announced, “She is travelling with orcs.  We are looking to buy MEN’S clothes that will fit this woman.”

 

One of the women frowned at that.  “She won’t fit men’s clothes. But I have some work clothes that might work.”

 

And that was how ZIra came to own two pairs of pants, three shirts and a pile of underthings that all fit into her new-to-her rucksack.  She even figured out how to roll up the fur Jivvaar had given her and strap it to her pack. 

 

Jivvaar looked at all of this as they were getting ready for bed and sighed.  “You need a knife, but I’m betting you don’t know how to use one.”

 

“Just for eating,” Zira replied.

 

Jivvaar groaned.  He gave her the same belt knife he had given her before, “Just don’t pull it on anyone.  It would be dishonorable for someone to stab you if you don’t have your weapon drawn.”

 

“That isn’t exactly comforting,”

 

Jivvaar shrugged, “It’s the best I can do just now.”

 

With nothing decided, they spent the night clinging to each other, each with their own fears of what the morning would bring.

 

And it certainly brought surprises.  At breakfast, Graak announced that Zira would be traveling with her from that point forward.  Zira was a bit nervous about that. Graak was gruff and abrupt and Zira wasn’t sure what to think of that.

 

Jivvaar wondered what his aunt had up her sleeve.  There was always the chance that this was all part of an elaborate plan.  Graak was cunning and he wouldn’t put it past her.

 

He rode his horse close to her caravan and shameless eavesdropped as Graal grilled Zira about her life growing up.  Her stories were strange for him. Where the whole tribe celebrated every child as a gift, it seemed … neglectful that her parents would abdicate their responsibility.  He tried to think of it as her nurse and her governess being part of her tribe. That worked until he came to understand that the nurse had been sent away. The lack of continuity was a whole other set of problems for him.

 

It gave him a lot to think about during the ride.

 

\----

 

The horde had decided not to stop for midday meal.  That meant that Zira had spent the whole day answering increasingly uncomfortable questions.  Graak finally ran down about sometime after Zira finished eating the bread, apples and cheese she had been given for lunch. 

 

She wasn’t sure how long they rode in silence before a cry went up from the advance scouts.  As the caravan came out of the forest, Zira saw the orc stronghold. It was not what she was expecting.  There was a wall, but it was only as high as she was tall. It would be easy for invaders to climb. It surrounded a huge field, at least a quarter section of land, that was full of tents and caravans.  There was a small village in the middle containing one great manor house, build in the orc style, a public house, a small market and a few houses. When Zira looked back over her shoulder, the inside of the wall was decorated with what her father would call grotesques, but what her history books had called sheela na gig as well as a number of male fertility idols.

 

While most of the tribe headed towards their campsite, Graak took her caravan and thus Zira to the large hall in the centre of the town.  She parked it directly in front of the main doors and hopped down, “This way, girl! Don’t doddle!”

 

Zira scrambled out of the cart and hurried after the elder.

 

Graal walked in like she owned the place and the deference shown to her by the warriors lounging around the place suggested she might.  Eventually she came to stand in a throne room. She growled something in orcish and everyone in the room turned to stare first at Graal then at Zira who blushed and shifted uncomfortably.

 

A massive patriarch orc whose face was more scarred than not, came over and spoke at length with Graal.  After some back and forth, he cupped Zira’s chin and made her look at him.

 

“Do you wish to be returned to your family?” he demanded in harshly accented human.

 

Zira’s eyes went wide, “No, sir.” she whispered respectfully.

 

He laughed at that, “Humans don’t generally ‘sir’ me.”

 

Zira gave him a puzzled look, “I am in your country, my lord, in your house.  Is ‘sir’ not correct? Should it be your highness?” she asked earnestly.

 

Graal snorted, “Don’t so that!  His head is big enough as it is.”

 

The big orc nodded his head to Zira, “You may call me Lord Wolflash.  I understand you are a soap maker?”

 

“Yes, Lord Wolflash.”

 

Graal rolled her eyes.  

 

Wolflash grinned.  “Come, I will introduce you to the keeper of this house and you will tell her what you need to make soap for us.”

 

\----

 

Zira had been given a room in Wolflash Keep.  It had taken almost a week to source all the ingredients for a batch of cold process suet and goat’s milk soap.  The keeper of the house had been surprised to learn the soap would need to cure for a month before it was ready to use.  She immediately asked Zira what other kinds of soap she could make. Which is how Zira ended up making oatmeal soap the next day, lavender soap the day after and oak moss soap the day after that.

 

She was being well cared for.  She had good food, a soft bed and a warm fire at night.  She also didn’t get to see Jivvaar. Or any one else anywhere close to her age.  

 

The keep was currently housing elders and children.  Unbonded pairs where out in the camp site and bonded pairs were apparently self isolating to avoid the drama of breeding season.  Mate guarding they called it.

 

Lonely, Zira called it.

 

After about a week, the Keeper (who was a grandmotherly orcess named Ural) found Zira moping in her room one day after the last meal of the day.

 

“And what is making you cry, poppet?”

 

Zira wiped her face on her sleeve and feel ridiculous at getting caught.  “I miss Jivvaar, Lady Ural. And the tribe who brought me here.”

 

The Keeper was clearly taken aback by that, “Jivvaar the warrior?” she asked.  “What is he to you?”

 

Zira looked at her hands, “He was, um, courting me.  Before we got here.”

 

“I see.” Ural said, disapprovingly.  “And what did he say when he broke it off?”

 

Zira closed her eyes, she hadn’t known Jivvaar had broken it off, but it made sense why she hadn’t seen him  “He said I would be safer away from the winter grounds, Keeper.”

 

Ural snorted, “Well, that’s true at least.”  The Keeper thought for a moment, “I will send word down to the grounds and see if anyone is able to come to visit you. It is unhealthy to sit alone in your room and weep.  If Jivvaar is… unavailable, would you be willing to spend time with a different warrior?”

 

“Not yet, Ural.”

 

Ural frowned, “I see,” she said again, just as disapproving as the last time.  “Why him?”

 

“He cares for me.  He lets me talk and he listens to what I say.”

 

“Hmmm.” 

 

And with that, Ural turned and left.

 

\---

 

The next morning when Zira came into the great hall for breakfast, she was surprised to see Jivvaar talking to Lord Wolflash.  She entered the room in his blind spot, but recognized the scars on his back. He was wearing leather pants, but no shirt and the scar he got falling off a horse when he was twelve was quite distinctive.  Zira froze on the threshold. Lord Wolflash nodded to her. Jivvaar turned.

 

He smiled as soon as he saw her.

 

A weight Zira didn’t know she was carrying released.

 

They met in the middle of the room.  Jivvaar spoke first, “I hear you missed me.”

 

“I do.”

 

“I missed you too.”

 

Zira leaned forward and pressed her face against Jivvaar’s chest.  His arms wrapped around her and she never want him to let go. She felt rather than saw him bow his head to breathe in the smell of her hair.

 

“How long can you stay?” she whispered.

 

“Until Wolflash tells me to leave.”

 

“Right now,” Lord Wolflash said, “I am telling you both to join me in my study.”

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

The study was not quite what Zira was expecting.  She had thought desk, bookcases, maybe a fireplace.  This was like nothing she had seen before. There was a large butcher block table in the middle of the room.  There was a floor drain and hooks from the ceiling that make the place look like a torture chamber. But there were also big windows with leaded glass panes and a fairly extensive collection of potted plants.  Zira hesitated in the doorway, looking around, wide eyed and baffled.

 

Wolflash looked at her and barked, “What?”

 

Zira panicked slightly.  Jivvaar rubbed her back, “It is alright.”

 

Wolflash looked down at her, “Nervous little thing, aren’t you.”

 

“I’m sorry, Lord.”

 

This wasn’t the right thing to say, now he was frowning at her. “And what do you mean by that?” he demanded.

 

Zira’s breath caught in her throat and she stammered, “I’m sorry?”

 

“So you said. What did you mean?”

 

“I’m… I…. I do not understand, my lord.”

 

Wolflash frowned again, then abruptly turned and went to poke at the fire in a complex fireplace in the corner.  “When an orc says ‘I’m sorry,’ it means ‘I regret that this has happened.’ Sometimes it also means, ‘I accept responsibility for this and I regret that that it has happened.’  The Keeper of the House has informed me that she believes that when you say ‘I’m sorry’ what you mean is ‘Please don’t hurt me’.” Now he peeked at Jivvaar and Zira over his shoulder, “I did not believe her at the time, but I should have known better than to question The Keeper.  But now, I must know, who taught you to instinctively plead for mercy everytime someone looks at you?”

 

Zira shifted uncomfortably.  “I don’t know how to answer that question, Lord.”

 

Lord Wolflash gave her a long look, “I will take that to mean everyone.”  He sighed, “I want to assure you, no one will hurt you here. The Keeper of this House is quite fond of you and you are welcome here regardless of what happens with Jivvaar.”

 

This did not inherently make her feel better, “Please, lord, what is going to happen with Jivvaar?”

 

“I was told he is courting you, is that not correct?”

 

Jivvaar answered that one with, “She hadn’t rejected me, yet, Wolflash.”

 

The old warrior laughed.  “That’s about all we can hope for, isn’t it?”

 

He watched them for a moment.  “Zira? The Keeper would like to adopt you.  Are you willing to be her daughter?”

 

Zira gaped at him, “I’m not entirely sure what that means for orcs.”

 

“She will teach you about our culture and be responsible for your wellbeing,” Wolflash explained.

 

“It is a great honour,” Jivvaar added.  “The Keeper is the highest ranking orc in this kingdom.”

 

Zira felt as though they were speaking a different language. “The housekeeper is the highest ranking orc?”

 

Both males grumbled about that and Zira fought the urge to apologize.  What she said was, “I’m not trying to be rude, I am trying to understand.”

 

“Not the housekeeper,” Jivvaar said. “The Keeper of the House.  It’s more like… Protector of the Clan. Orcs are ruled by matriarchs, guarded by warriors.”

 

Zira tried to process that.  It seemed unbelievable that she had spent the last week making soap with the orc queen.  “Why would she want to adopt me?”

 

Wolflash laughed, “I told you, she is quite fond of you.  She finds you charming. And, I suspect, you …” Wolflash waved his hand looking for the right word, “arouse her mothering instincts.  mama bears protecting their cubs have nothing on a orc matriarch protecting her small ones. Plus, Elder Graak gave you an excellent recommendation.”

 

Zira blinked and finally stepped out of the doorway to sit on one of the chairs.  Jivvaar followed her and as he sat, she said, “I… find that surprising.”

 

Wolflash grinned, “So do I.”

 

Zire felt uncomfortable about that.  “I did not think she liked me at all.”

 

Jivvaar snorted, “Of course she doesn’t!  My aunt has never liked anyone, ever. It isn’t just you, everyone is a huge disappointment to her.”

 

Wolflash nodded in agreement, “Which is why it was such a surprise when she spoke of your bravery, leaving your own kind to follow a horde of orcs.”

 

Ziras mind was racing, “Am I… am I allowed to politely refuse her offer of adoption?”

 

Wolflash’s eyebrows went up so far they almost reached his receding hairline.

 

Jivvaar frowned, “Why would you do that, Zira?”

 

Zira looked down at her hands which had balled themselves into fists without her noticing.  She forced herself to relax. “If I am … Keeper Ural’s daughter, then she might choose a different match for me.  I am … fond of you, Jivvaar. Last night, she asked if I would be willing to let someone else court me. She must have been thinking about after she owns-”

 

Jivvaar reached out and put his finger on her lips.  “Your next word is going to be ‘me’, isn’t it? After she owns me.”

 

Zira nodded solemnly.

 

“It doesn’t work that way.  You get to decide whose courtship you would be willing to accept.” Wolflash insisted.

 

Zira took Jivvaar’s hand.  “I don’t know that I would make a very good orc.”

 

Now Wolflash laughed.  “Have you seen our pups?  Small, weak, writhing little things, can’t even support their own heads!  A mother’s job is to teach the small and the weak about our culture, about what it means to be a orc.  That is what Keeper Ural is offering you.” His eyes narrowed and he pointedly added, “That and the protection of the horde.”

 

Zira was suddenly scanning Wolflash’s face with a calculating expression that Jivvaar had not seen before.  Then she nodded. “Thank you. I am honoured to accept Keeper Ural’s offer.”

 

\----

 

Zira wasn’t sure what to expect after that, but what she got was a orc style banquet to introduce her to the clan leaders.  This wasn’t like the formal parties her parents had thrown. There were a number of whole roast pigs, many barrels of beer, and what seemed like a never ending supply of orcs.  They all wanted to touch foreheads with her, which she had come to understand as the orc equivalent of shaking hands.

 

Until one particularly drunk orc kept his head against hers long enough to make her uncomfortable while noticeably sniffing her.  She panicked and took a step back and immediately Jivvaar and some of the orcs friend hustled him out of the room.

 

Zira was rattled by that.  Ural came over and gave her a grandmotherly hug.  “That, my girl, is why orcs have their first mating in public.  If either party becomes unhappy with the contact, the tribe will intervene to stop it.”

 

Zira shivvered and leaned against Ural.  “You are all so much bigger than me. I feel like a little girl surrounded by adults.”

 

Ural snorted. “You are still learning orc culture.  Let me tell you, if you act big, and don’t go picking any fights, you will be fine.”  Ural considered this for a moment, “Although, if you end up with an orc mate, it might be best if he did some mate guarding during breeding season.  It only lasts one moon cycle every two years, but orcesses tend to get a bit…. erratic for a while.”

 

Zira considered this.  “I have been here for three weeks.  Will the tribes move on after the full moon?”

 

Ural shrugged.  “Some may. Most will stay.  It is safer to spend the winter together.  We share resources. Plus, by spring we will know which breedings were successful and there will be pairings that do not work outside of breeding season.  The tribes will regroup before they disburse for the summer.” Ural gave Zira a calculating look and led her away to a table.

 

When they were seated with a tankard of ale each, Ural said, “Tell me about your last pairing.”

 

Zira looked hard at her mug.  “I don’t know what to tell. It was arranged by my father and my husband’s father.  I know there was a fair amount of negotiation over my dowry. Then I went to live in my father in law’s house and I have not seen my family since.”

 

Ural had made a face at the word dowry.

 

“Where you happy with the pairing?”

 

Zira looked at Ural, “That wasn’t a consideration.”

 

“And how did you meet the human Queen?”

 

Zira frowned.  “I haven’t.”

 

Ural frowned, “Don’t lie to me, girl, how did you meet the Queen?”

 

Zira took a step back and started to apologize before remembering what Wolflash had said about that. “I… I have never met the Queen.  You would know if I am lying. I honestly don’t know what you are talking about.”

 

“Hmmm.” Ural said, thoughtfully.  “The humans are looking for duchess, with your name, who matches your description, who is the daughter of a soapmaker.”

 

“I am not a duchess, Ural.”

 

“Were you meant to be?” Ural asked, pointedly.

 

“No.   My father in law is a duke, but I married his fourth son.  I was never in line for a title.”

 

“Hmmm.  I will make some inquiries.”  Ural thought about that for a moment.  “Unless you object, but it would be helpful to get this sorted out if you ever plan on traveling outside of orc territory.”

 

Zira hesitated.  “I don’t want to go back to my old life.  I have hardly even met Jivvaar and he is kinder to me than any family I ever had.”

 

Ural shook her head, “I have adopted you now. I am not giving you up.  But I am curious why the Queen of the humans is looking for my daughter.”  Ural glanced over Zira’s shoulder, “Jivvaar is waiting to talk to you.”

 

Zira looked over her shoulder, Jivvaar was standing there looking nervous.  He noticeably relaxed when Zira smiled at him.

 

“He would be a good mate for you,” Ural said simply.

 

Zira nodded, “I believe he would.  He has been very patient with me.”

 

“Graal said you were sleeping in his tent.”

 

Zira looked up at her adopted mother, trying to see signs of disapproval.  There weren’t any. She nodded carefully.

 

Ural continued, “But you aren’t mated yet.”

 

Zira shook her head.

 

Ural sighed, “Humans do things very differently.  You will not be judged for taking him to your room.  I know you are lonely and I would not deny you any comfort he could bring.”

 

Zira swallowed, not even sure what to say about that.  She knew she was blushing and that just made it worse. 

 

Ural laughed and cupped Zira’s cheek before pressing her forehead to Zira’s.  “Off you go, little one. Have fun at your baquet.”

 

\---

 

Zira ate some roast pig, and slowly drank the ale the orcs were quaffing.  Everyone was dressed up, which wasn’t what she was used to. Orc formal wear included lots of furs and leather, bone jewelry, and ceremonial weapons.

 

She danced with Jivvaar and Raj-ak who was exceptionally popular with the orcesses.  That was a little puzzling until he laughed at her confusion and said, “I get all the fun of breeding season and none of the consequences.”  At which point Zira blushed and Raj-ak laughed harder.

 

Hours later, she was barely half way through her tankard of ale and feeling a little tipsy.  The party was in full swing. As she walked past a window, she realized, so was the orgy. Her first thought was to blush and giggle and turn away, but she found herself turning back to watch.  There was a lot more laughing and joy from everyone that how her sex life had ever gone.

 

She jumped when Jivvaar came and stood next to her.  She waited to see what he was going to say. Nothing, it seemed.  Zira looked over at him and saw that where she was somewhat uncomfortable, he appeared to be completely relaxed.  That raised some questions for her. “Have you found anyone you liked while I’ve been making soap and getting adopted?”

 

“Nah.  The female I want has been too busy making soap and getting made princess.”

 

“Princess?  That sounds like a high maintenance woman if I have ever heard of one.”

 

“Not yet, but she’s worth it.”

 

Zira stood up on her tiptoes and hauled Jivvaar down to kiss him.  When she needed to stop for breath, she looked at him carefully. “Can I show you my room?”

 

“I would like that.”

 

Zira was careful to bring a candle with her.  There was flint and steel at her fireplace, but she could never get the thing to light that way.  Plus the staircases were both steep and dark. Jivvaar followed behind her and she realized that if he stood about three steps below her, she could look directly into his eyes.  His skin might be mossy green but his eyes were like the most expensive cognac her father in law had made a point of only sharing with his oldest son.

 

“What?” he asked after a moment.

 

“You are beautiful.” Zira said simply.

 

Jivvaar took a step back.  “How much have you had to drink?” he asked.

 

Zira shook her head.  “You are beautiful to me, Jivvaar.” She reached up and stroked his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair.  

 

He copied the gesture, his hand shaking slightly.  “I’m so afraid of hurting you, Zira. I would never want to do that.”

 

“I know.” She took his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles.  Then she turn and led him up to her room. As they came inside she went to light the fire.  The room was quite chilly at night. She had a reasonably sized window, but it wasn’t glazed. There were double shutters, an inside set and an outside set, then a sheepskin as a drape to go over that.

 

“I have been told that when it starts to frost at night, they pack the space between the shutters with fleece.  I expect I won’t be able to see at that point, so I am trying to memorize my room before then.”

 

Jivvaar peeked into her kettle.  “You don’t have any water in here.”

 

Zira coughed, “I can’t lift that when it’s full.”

 

Jivvaar lifted the two gallon cast iron kettle off the fireplace and carried it down to the pump room.  He filled it up and brought it back. Zira was trying to light the  [ Masonry heater ](https://richsoil.com/rocket-stove-mass-heater.jsp) .

 

“This is different than the kind of fireplaces human’s use. But it does make the bed nice and warm.”

 

Jivvaar grunted, “The kettle keeps the air nice and means you always have warm water for washing.  I will make sure it stays full for you.”

 

Zira nodded. “Thank you.” She hesitated, unsure of how to say the next bit, “Jivvaar?  Would you stay with me? Um. Tonight, I mean.”

 

“Of course!”  He looked at her bed, she had the fur he had given her, but no other blankets. He would have to do something about that.  For now, he lay his cloak over the bed. “Are you ready to sleep?”

 

Zira peeked up at him. “Can I touch you?”

 

Jivvaar’s cock twitched and she hadn’t even moved towards him. “I would like that.” He cleared his throat, his voice had dropped and octave as soon as she talked about touching him. 

 

Zira smiled, “You have the most beautiful, velvety bass voice, Jivvaar.  But when you look at me like that, it gets so deep I can feel it in my bones.”

 

Jivvaar stalked carefully up to her.  He didn’t hold her, he just bent his head to hers and growled.  Zira gasped and shivered, the smell of her arousal flared around her. Jivvaar stood up straight, towering over her.  He rumbled, “Am I making you afraid?”

 

Zira peeked up at him.  She put her hands on his chest, then pulled up his jerkin and put her hands on his skin over his heart.  She licked her lips and shook her head, no, not trusting her voice in that moment.

 

Jivvaar brought his hands up behind her and gently stroked her back.  Zira shivvered, then wrapped her arms around his neck and hauled him down to kiss his lips.  Jivvaar grabbed her by the hips and carried her over to stand on the bed while trying to return her kisses with a mouth that was not built for that.  He caught the hands coiled around his neck and repositioned them behind his ears.

 

Zira pulled away and looked at Jivvaar with confusion.

 

Jivvaar took her hand and carefully folded her fingers so her index was pointing.  Then he ran her finger over the edge of his ear. “Here,” he rumbled his voice thick and deeper still. He continued the path around the bottom and across his cheek to his tusk. “And here.” He sighed, “Just pull a little.”

 

Her other hand came up and stroked the back of his cheek, then she cupped his pointed ear and ran her hand over it before tugging gently at the end.

 

“Ummm.”  Jivvaar hummed, “ ‘is nice.”

 

“Can you take off your shirt?” Zira asked.

 

Jivvaar took a step back and shucked it, dropping it on the floor.

 

Zira ran her hands over his broad chest, feeling the toned muscles under her palms.  Jivvaar flexed a pec without warning. She squeaked and jerked her hands back. He gave her a smirk, then leaned forward and carefully nuzzled her cheek.  

 

“You smell good,” he rumbled. “Not afraid anymore.”

 

Zira flashed him her dimples and shook her head.  “I’m not afraid. I want you to touch me.”

 

Jivvaar considered this as he peeled Zira out of her clothes. Her skin was soft like butter.   The purple colour had faded. He sighed.

 

Zira shivered as his breath ghosted over her skin.  “I want to touch you, too, Jivvaar.”

 

Jivvaar smiled down at her.  “Yeah?” Zira nodded solemnly.  “Whatever you want, princess.”

 

Zira was tentative at first, until Jivvaar was forced to say, “No tickling.”  At which point, she snatched her hands away again and looked up at his face. She kept her eyes there as her hands ran slowly up and down his chest.  About the time he had relaxed into her stroking him, she pinched his nipples.

 

Jivvaar jumped, then laughed.  “So, it’s like that is it?”

 

Zira smiled shyly, as she leaned in, coiled her arms around his waist and squeezed his ass.  “WIll you lay down for me, Jivvaar?”

 

He looked down at the slightly mischievous look on her face.  He sat on the edge of the bed, but asked, “What are you planning, Zira?”

 

“I want to taste you,” she said, simply.  Jivvaar swallowed. He nodded carefully. Now she hesitated.  “I want to taste you. I don’t want you to fuck my face.”

 

Now Jivvaar’s eyebrows went up.  That wasn’t a word he had heard Zira use before and the way she said it suggested it wasn’t part of her regular vocabulary.  “You still don’t want me to pull on you.”

 

She shook her head.

 

He nodded.  “I won’t touch you, but I would like to sit up ad watch.”

 

Zira smiled shyly, then kissed his lips before trailing kisses down his chest.  She ran her tongue around his nipple, giving it a little lick before nuzzling her cheek against his abs and running her hands down to his cock. It twitched under her hands.  With her chin on his sternum so he could see what she was doing, careful fingers toyed with his foreskin, while her other hand cupped his balls, rolling them between her fingers.  Jivvaar swallowed and took firm hold of the cloak he was sitting on.

 

He cleared his throat.  His cock was already leaking precum and he was struggling to talk.   “Zira?” he rumbled as she sucked the tip of him into her mouth. “I can’t cum inside you.  Understand? Ural would shred me.”

 

She hummed her acknowledgment and her almost lost it right there.  “Gods! You make me feel like a teenager in rut. I want you so bad.  Spread out on the grass in the meadow, legs splayed out as it eat out until your thighs are quivering and your cunt is stretched around three of my fingers.  Then I would flip you over and work my dick between your thighs and into your cunt so that you can touch every inch of me. Rocking into you as the horde watches, playing with themselves, knowing you are  _ mine _ !”  The last word came out as a roar as Jivvaar wrenched himself back from her, spilling his seed on her chest.

 

He lay there panting as Zira scooped the cum off her chest and rubbed it between her fingers, thoughtfully.  “Would you roll over for me, Jivvaar?”

 

“Anything.” he gasped.

 

“Would you let me give you this back?”  He looked at her in confusion. Zira blushed and looked away.

 

“What do you have in mind?” he asked, fairly certain that he already knew.

 

“I have small hands, and .... there are places inside men that like being rubbed.”

 

“Have you ever done that before?”  Zira blushed harder and nodded. “Something you enjoy?” he asked.

 

Zira shrugged.  “I would like to try with someone I care about.”

 

Jivvaar yawned.  “Ok, baby girl. I just need a moment.”

 

When he woke up, it took him a moment to remember where he was.  Zira was asleep next to him. She had cleaned up while he was asleep.  The candle was out, her white fur was covering them both as she was all curled up against his side. Damn.

  
  


 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut and politics

When he woke up, it took him a moment to remember where he was.  Zira was asleep next to him. She had cleaned up while he was asleep.  The candle was out, her white fur was covering them both as she was all curled up against his side. Damn.

 

Jivvaar considered this.  He wanted to wake her up and eat her out.  On the other hand, that seemed a bit rude and he had already passed out and left her unsatisfied.  He was not currently scoring well on the suitable mate material test. He ghosted his fingers up and down her arm.  He needed to get her some jewelry. And find something to kill, show her he was a good hunter, a good provider.

 

If he hadn’t just been drained he would have gone off when she offered to finger him.  He was expecting to have to work up to asking for that. Although, the way she had said it.  That gave him some pause. She hadn’t said she enjoyed it, just that she wanted to try it with him.  He was over thinking things now.

 

His feet were still hanging off the edge of the heated platform of the bed.  “Come on, little one,” he said rolling her onto his chest before repositioning them on the bed. “There we go.”

 

He could feel her eyelashes fluttering against his chest.  He moaned softly, but what really made his cock wake up and take notice was when she licked his chest.  “Ummm.”

 

“Now who’s purring?” Zira teased.

 

“I have a favour to return.”  It was the wrong thing to say, Zira immediately tensed in his arms.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“Can…. can we just not keep score?  I’m not…. good at that.”

 

Jivvaar sat up.  He looked down at Zira, but the room was dark and she wasn’t giving any indication that she could see him.  “I don’t mean it like that,” he said softly. “I just don’t want to take advantage.”

 

She immediately relaxed.  “You won’t.”

 

“You are right.  I won’t. I want to take care of you.  I want to be worthy of you.”

 

She was surprised at that.  Jivvaar wondered why. He was slightly afraid to ask.

 

“Why would Ural shred you if you cum inside me?”

 

“It would dishonour you and your family if we mated without a proper ceremony.”

 

“What all is involved in a proper ceremony?”

 

Jivvaar considered this, “There are specific courting gifts I have to get you.”

 

“Like the fur.  And the comb?”

 

“Yes.  Then, your family needs to hold a banquet-”

 

“Like this one?”

 

Jivvaar froze.  “Yes.”

 

“What else?”

 

“I, uh, I have to show you I can keep you feed.”

 

“You already did that on the way here.”

 

His mind was racing now, “We have to braid each other’s hair and learn each other’s war stories.”

 

“Done.  What else?”

 

“I have to get the approval of your elders.”

 

“Is that like when Ural told me she would not deny me any comfort you could bring?”

 

Jivvaar sat up, “She said that?”

 

Zira nodded, smiling slightly.  “I mean… if you want to. I’m happy just having you here as comfort if that’s all-”

 

Jivvaar racked his brain.  There was a ceremonial bath.  They had done that in the inn, too much teasing from everyone when they flooded the place.  “I don’t have a caravan to give you.”

 

“Oh.”

 

She looked genuinely disappointed!

 

“Zira?  Do you want to be my mate?”

 

“Yes, I do.  I like what I have seen about how orc culture works. I like talking to you.  I like touching you. I like having you touch me. I missed you a lot when I was in the keep without you.”  She fumbled in the dark for his hand, then jumped when he took hers. Blushing slightly she said, “OK, so I will probably still be nervous a lot of the time.  But… there is no one I would rather get through that with.” She sighed. “I mean. If you want me. Getting a caravan seems like an awfully big gift when I can’t fill it with children for you.”

 

Jivvaar was just beaming at her in the dark.  Until that last line, then he pressed a finger to her lips.  “I know that was a big deal where you grew up. I promise it isn’t here.”

 

Zira retaliated by licking his finger.

 

Jivvaar groaned.  “Zira? Please let me mate you.  Officially.”

 

She smiled in the direction of his voice.  “I will be embarrassed. But not because of you.  I am not completely over the idea of mating in public.  But, yes. I want to be official.” She took a deep breath, then continued, “When you first told me that public sex-,” she whispered the last word.  Jivvaar smiled at that. “- was part of the mating ceremony, I - well, I thought you were lying. But… Raj-ak and Rika, and here tonight. It isn’t what I thought it would be.”

 

Jivvaar got up and opened both sets of shutters on the window.  The moon was up and the festival feeling was still going on in the field below.

 

“Zira?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Would you let me buy you a caravan in the springtime?”

 

“Yes, Jivvaar.  I would like that.”

 

She sounded sad.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“It just … well, that’s a long time away. And I want you.  A lot.”

 

Jivvaar laughed.  “You can always say stop.  At any time. Do you understand?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Will you, though?” Jivvaar asked,  “Even if people are watching?”

 

She smiled at him.  “Yeah.”

 

Jivvaar gave a whoop of joy, stood up and flung Zira over his shoulder.  She squeaked. He froze. “Now?”

 

“Now sex? Or now stop?” she asked, but before he could answer, she reached down from her position to squeeze his ass.

 

“There is a whole wedding party and a several hordes worth of witnesses down there, Zira.  Will you let me?”

 

She licked his back. “Yes,” she said, running a tiny foot up the inside of his thigh.

 

“I have to carry you down the stairs first, you know.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Yes.” Jivvaar said carefully.  He stroked her ass before opening the door and starting down the stairs.

 

“Neither of us is wearing any clothes,” Zira pointed out.

 

Jivvaar snorted.  “I noticed. Do you want me to take you back upstairs?”

 

“No. I was just mentioning it.”

 

Zira expected Jvvaar to head out to the meadow outside, but instead he went to the great hall and stopped to kneel in front of Ural.

 

“Eldar Ural-” he began.

 

Ural just sighed, “Really, Jivvaar?  I just barely have a daughter and you have to take her from me?”

 

Jivvaar stammered, unsure of how to continue.  Zira stood up and smiled at Ural, “I am quite fond of him, Mother Ural.  I would like to keep him.”

 

Ural burst out laughing.  “Well, then, you must ask Graal to be allowed to marry her nephew.”

 

Jivvaar ducked his head and blushed his ears dark green as there a great roar went up in the hall.  

 

Zira’s eyes went wide and she leaned into him and whispered, “Was that the wrong thing to say?”

 

Jivvaar couldn’t even find the words, he just shook his head no, then pulled her over and kissed her deeply.  She tangled her hands in his hair and kissed him back, licking his lips and tasting his mouth until Graal came over and poked Zira with a finger.  

 

“You are supposed to ask first!” the elder complained.

 

“Oh!  Elder Graal-” Zira started.  She stopped when she realized she didn’t know the formal words to say here.  She swallowed nervously and went with. “I love your nephew and-”

 

“And it’s about bloody well time the idjit finally found a mate who is willing to put up with him.” Elder Graal finished, be she said it fondly, with a hint of a smile on her normally sour face.  Zira smiled at Graal, showing her dimples. She was still pretty much plastered to Jivvaar to hide as much as she could. Graal stepped forward and caught Zira by the hair, she peered at the human’s small, round ears.  “We will have to get those pierced in the morning. You have two strong clans worth of jewelry to wear.”

 

Zira looked over Jivvaar’s shoulder at the now silent crowd.  “What happens next?” she said quietly.

 

Grakk came forward.  “I will be your second, brother.”

 

Zira frowned slightly, “Like in a duel?”

 

Grakk fought a smile and lost, “Well, if you are offer-” Jivvaar punched him hard in the stomach.  Grakk wheezed.

 

“To interfere or to prevent others from interfering as needed,” Ural explained. “His job is to kill Jivvaar if you tell him stop and he does not.  But also to keep anyone else from stealing you while you both rest afterwards.”

 

“Does that happen?” ZIra asked nervously.

 

“No.”  It was a single word, but it was chorused by Ural, Graal, Grakk, and Jivvaar, as well as a few other orcs within earshot.

 

Zira nodded, then she shivered.  Ural sighed and took off her cloak.  “Come here, my child. Under other circumstances, Jivvaar would be covering you with his warmth just now.  But these are not normal circumstances.” After she had wrapped Zira in her cloak, she turned to Graal, “Since my daughter has asked for your nephew, he will be staying here.  He will move into her room with her and in two years, at the next festival, we can negotiate again.”

 

Grakk made a noise of protest.  Graal interrupted with, “Agreed.”

 

The elders eyed each other for a moment.  Then Graal turned to Jivvaar, “What did I say about keeping her warm?  Were you going to just spread her on the flagstones?”

 

Grakk spread his cloak on the floor in front of the fireplace and stomped out.  Jivvaar noticed that Zira was getting nervous. His instinct was to pull her close and comfort her.  But right now she was wearing her mother’s cloak. That made it a bit more complicated. “Zira? It’s OK.  The whole horde will take care of you. You are one of ours now.”

 

She smiled nervously up at him then stepped forward into his arms. Jivvaar hugged her and rubbed her back, ignoring the heated discussion in orcish between Ural and Graal and now Sayass.  Taking a mate who might be a stolen duchess (whatever she said) was more complicated than the normal process. He was distracted from the discussion when Zira coiled her arms around his neck and pulled.  Instead of him leaning down, he held her hips and helped lift her up. She pulled on his ears and kissed his lips.

 

There was a large, encouraging whoop from the crowd.  Jivvaar kissed her back. 

 

After a while, Grakk cleared his throat and announced, “Well, now that you have proven my new sister can breathe through her ears-”

 

Jivvaar broke off the kiss to snarl at his brother and saw that the orcs in his hunting party -  Grakk, Elias, Galdeck, and Raj-ak had lain their cloaks in a nest in front of the fire and Grakk had brought Jivvaar’s sleeping furs to top that.

 

Zira slid out of his arms and handed Ural’s cloak back to her, interrupting whatever discussions were still going on.

 

Ural caught the woman’s hand.  “Is this what you want, my daughter?”

 

Zira smiled and hugged the elder, “Yes, Mother Ural, it is.”  Then, to Jivvaar’s surprise, she took his hand and pulled him in the direction of the impromptu nest.  He let himself be led over. She dropped his hand and sat on the sleeping furs and looked up at him expectantly.  Jivvaar growled softly and dropped to the floor to cover her. The furs smelt like him, but he could still pick up the scents of the other males on the cloaks beneath them.  He crawled over her so that her tiny body was trapped in the cage made by his hands and knees. 

 

Jivvaar bent his head and sniffed her face, smelling her nervousness with an undercurrent of lust and the scent of the other males below that.  He licked her cheek, then arched his back and roared defiance at the surrounding horde.

 

Zira made a distress sound and covered her ears.  At which point, Raj-ak showed, once again why he was so valued by the tribe.  “Zira? It’s OK if you need to stop this.” If anyone else had tried that, Jivvaar might have been tempted to try and rip their throat out with his teeth, but Raj-ak was not a threat to his breeding rights.

 

Zira looked up at Jivvaar who had bent his head and was smelling her fear.  Then she looked back at Raj-ak. She took a deep breath then screamed, “Mine!  Piss off!” Raj-ak grinned at her. Jivvaar rocked back on his heels and lifted her hips to his mouth.  With one arm splayed out on the ground in an attempt to keep her balance, Zira cupped the back of Jivvaar’s head with the other, tangling her fingers in his hair.

 

Her body was already wet, her clit a hard little nub beneath his lips, all Jivvaar had to do to make her cum was sucked hard on it as he trust a finger deep into her cunt and curled his finger.  By the gods! The sound she made! He pulled back to smile down at her. “I want to hear that roar again, Zira.”

 

She blinked, trying to focus her eyes and nodded.

 

Jivvaar worked a second finger inside of her and began gently pumping and scissoring to try to open her more.  Her body writhed beneath his touch, her hips bucking involuntarily. This time, she came with a slight squirt. Jivvaar had pulled his fingers out for a moment to lap at her cunt.  Her thighs were trembling.

 

“Need me to stop?” he whispered carefully.

 

She shook her head, no.

 

He lowered her to the furs and slowly eased his fingers back inside her.  The moans she made were intoxicating. Her hands went to her knees and she pulled her legs open even further for him.  Jivvaar kept trying to stretch her body so that she could take him without tearing, but her noises were getting increasingly frustrated.

 

This time, when she came with a scream, she shivered all over and scrambled away from him.  Zira lay there, panting for a moment. Her eyes fluttering closed.

 

Grakk made a joke about wearing her out, but Jivvaar didn’t find it funny.  He was so hard he actually hurt. He bent forward and lay his head on Zira’s belly.  She whined, but caught him by the ears and held him to her body when he tried to pull away.  After a minute or two, she pushed him off of her and got shakily to her feet. With Jivvaar still on his knees they were at about eye level.  She put her hands on his shoulders and almost silently mouthed, “Don’t help.”

 

She pushed him into a sitting position and then straddled him.  She took one of his hands and wrapped it around the base of his cock, then slowly and carefully lowered herself onto the still exposed part with a cry.  She buried her face in the crook of his neck and just hung limply on him. “I need a moment.”

 

Jivvaar nodded and put his other hand on the small of her back.

 

Zira took one hand off his shoulders and rubbed her belly.  “I can feel you inside me,” she said in amazement.

 

Jivvaar just gritted his teeth and tried not to cum and the pressure from her hand made her body even tighter around him. “Move.” He meant it as a plea, but his voice was so deep it sounded like an order.  He locked eyes and tried to convey his desperation with a look.

 

Zira nodded and began to rock.  Jivvaar moved his hand from his lap, but promptly put it back when she rocked a little too deeply and hissed in pain.  He changed his grip on himself so that he could thumb her clit as she worked and was rewarded with the immediate fluttering of her cunt around him.  As her whole body shivered around him, Jivvaar came with a roar as his world went white.

 

As he came, Jivvaar slumped forward.  At the last moment, he clutched Zira to his chest and rolled on to his back to avoid squashing her.  They were both drenched in sweat. Jivvaar licked his lips, chasing her flavour. He pulled her up his body to kiss his face and his cock sprang free with a splash.

 

Whatever post coital glow he was feeling was quickly dashed but Ural asking softly, “Are you alright, Zira?”

 

As soon as that was said, he realized he could feel her shaking.

 

Zira mumbled something unintelligible but in a reassuring tone.  Ural chuckled softly. Then stepped forward to drape her cloak over both of them, “Rest well, my daughter, my son, you have earned it tonight.”

 

\----

 

Zira woke up with a shiver to the sound of a whole lot of very drunk orcs.  She sat and pulled the cloak around her before give Jivvaar a nudge.

 

He was snoring softly.

 

“Wake up!” she hissed.

 

Grakk came over, “What do you need, Zira?”

 

One of the locals hurried off and gave Grakk an elbow to the ribs, “You saw that!  They are part of our clan now! I help her!”

 

Grakk turned and chest bumped the other orc.  “I’m the second!” he roared.

 

Zira’s eyes went wide and she shook Jivvaar’s shoulder urgently.  The other two males froze as they smelled her fear.

 

“What do you need, Princess?” the local orc asked.  

 

Zira had seen him around but had to think hard to remember his name was Gorgo.  She took a breath and tried to be diplomatic. “Gorgo, could you get me some water, please?  Grakk, could you get me one of Jivvaar’s shirts?”

 

Gorgo scurried off, which was an odd look for a seven foot tall orc who was even bigger around the shoulders.  Grakk on the other hand, hesitated. Elias came over and said, “I’ll do it. Grakk is still Jivvaar’s second, Zira.  He can’t leave you until morning.”

 

Zira nodded slowly.  Elias left. Grakk grinned down at her.  “I never thought I would see my brother as the bottom,” he said with a wink and a smile.  

 

Zira blushed.  She was sore and reasonably sure she would have bruises in a few places.  All she wanted was for Jivvaar to wake up and take her to the baths and then to bed.  Now that she was sitting up, she needed to add cold and slimy to the list. She slid off of Jivvaar’s chest and between the cold air hitting him and Zira whimpering softly, Jivvaar jerked awake and looked around.

 

“Good morning!”  Grakk announced with a leer.

 

“Can we go back to my room, now?  Please?” Zira asked.

 

Jivvaar leaned in and took a big sniff, then he startled, “You’re bleeding!”

 

Zira stared at him.  Her first instinct was to say, ‘No! That was last week!’ but as she shifted slightly she realized that might not be what he meant.  She really didn’t want to check in a room full of drunken orcs who were themselves in various states of nudity. “Can you just take me back to my room?  I can get cleaned up there, right? You brought me water, remember?”

 

Zira jumped when Raj-ak stood on a table and bellowed, “EVERYBODY OUT!”  She was even more surprised when it seemed to work. Ural and Wolflash came over.  Zira tried to remember if she had ever really seen them together before. Ural was definitely older than Wolflash.

 

Ural turned to Raj-ak, “Young man, go get your elders.”  Raj-ak nodded and hurried off as he left, Elias came in with one of Jivvaar’s shirts.  Grakk snatched it from him and sent him out. Jivvaar carefully lifted Zira and carried her to one of the empty tables.

 

When Graal came in, she reached up to slap the back of Jivvaar’s head, “What did you do?”

 

Zira was getting increasingly worried.  “We’re married now though, right?”

 

They all turned and stared at her.  Ural cleared her throat, “If he made you bleed, do you still want him?”

 

Zira just gaped at them.  After a moment she gathered her wits and asked quietly, “Could you all turn around, please?  I would like some privacy for this.” Jivvaar, Grakk and Wolflash turned around. Ural and Graal did not.

 

Ural reached out and stroked Zira’s cheek, “We need to see, little one.  We need to make sure you get the care that you need.”

 

Zira nodded slowly. She carefully opened the cloak and drew her legs up on the table, curling over to look at herself.  She was leaking her cum and Jivvaar’s and a few streaks of pink. “I’m fine!” she announced. Ural and Graal where frowning.  “What?”

 

Ural clear her throat, “You told me you had never been pregnant.”

 

Zira frowned, “I haven’t.”

 

“You have scars where you have torn.” Graal said softly.

 

“What?!” demanded Wolflash.

 

Zira snatched the cloak tighter around her.  “The man my parents arranged for me to marry was not as kind as Jivvaar.”  There was a long and awkward silence. “Please.” she stopped, looking for words, “Jivvaar has seen me naked before.  He has not turned away. Please - I want to be married to Jivvaar.”

 

The orcs all shared a look.  Graal turned on Jivvaar and demanded harshly in orcish,  _ “You knew about this?” _

 

_ “Yes, elder.  I will not reject her because of what has been done to her.” _

 

There was a general air of shock.  Graal said,  _ “I would never ask you to, boy.  Only that our clan should put a bounty on his head.” _

 

_ “That gets a lot more complicated if the man is a duke.”  _ Wolflash reminded her.

 

“What!?” Grakk demanded.

 

Zira looked up, “What is being said, please?”  They all stared at her. “Tell me what is going on!” she insisted.

 

Ural smiled at Zira, “Congratulations on being married, my girl.  Jivvaar, why don’t you take your new wife to get cleaned up. Are you still alright with your brother acting on your behalf?”

 

Jivvaar looked at Zira, who was nervous, then at the Elders who looked ready to go to war, then at his brother, who just looked dumbfounded.  He gritted his teeth, but nodded. He wrapped Zira up in the pile of sleeping furs Grakk had brought and carried her carefully up to her room.

 

Jivvaar was silent on his way up the stairs.  He set Zira carefully on the bed. She got shakily to her feet. Jivvaar cleared his throat, “I hurt you, let me clean up.”

 

Zira snickered, “First of all, you did not hurt me.  I’m just out of practice. Second, I know how you clean up your messes.  I don’t think I’ll be ready for more for a day or two.” She yawned, the stretched and winced.  “I would be more than happy to let you bring me warm water and a washcloth.”

 

Jivvaar did.  Zira gave herself a thorough wipe down, starting with her hands and face and working her way down from there.  She used up almost all the water Jivvaar poured into the wash basin for her. Then she looked at him. “Pass me a clean wash cloth and some more water and I’ll get you too.”

 

Jivvaar shrugged.  He took her cloth and wiped down his face, hands and between his legs.  “Real bath in the morning,” he rumbled.

 

Zira realized he was staring at her.  “Do you regret this?”

 

“No!”  Jivvaar hesitated.  “Do you?”

 

Zira shook her head and smiled at him. “I’m not going to lie, Jivvaar.  That wasn’t easy for me to do. Everyone staring and everything. I’m glad it’s over.  But I’m even more glad that I get to stay with you.”

 

Jivvaar smiled back at her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her slightly messy hair.  “I glad I get to stay with you too.” Zira stretched up to kiss him, he ducked his head so she could.  “We are going to take some teasing in the morning,” he warned. “No one will be mean about it, but they will try to make you blush.”

 

Zira laughed, “Oh, I’m pretty sure I will blush.”  She snuggled a little closer for a moment then asked, “Could you close the window?  It’s gotten cold in here while we were away.”

 

“There isn’t a candle.  If I close the window will you be able to see?”

 

“No, but I’m hoping to sleep some more anyway.”

 

Jivvaar nodded.  He closed the window and stoked the fire and curled up in bed next to his wife.

 

\----

 

Jivvaar and Zira jerked awake to the sound of someone banging on the door.  Jivvaar smiled down at Zira. “I love you,” he said softly. He covered her ears with his palms and pressed his forehead to hers.  The he smiled at her again, turned to the door and bellowed, “FUCK OFF!”

 

Zira jumped, then snickered.

 

The door latch rattled and the door was pushed open enough for Grakk to poke his head in.  “The bath is all set up for you. You have about an hour until lunch and Ural is making an announcement.”

 

Jivvaar grumbled and flopped back down on the bed.

 

“Hey!” Grakk barked.  “You got to sleep. I was up negotiating on your behalf all night.”

 

Zira pushed herself up a little, “What were you negotiating, Grakk?”

 

“Uh-” he looked at Jivvaar who shrugged.

 

“You asked Graal to marry me.  You were on top. Technically I married into your family.  You didn’t marry into mine.”

 

Zira looked between him and Grakk.  “Well, how does that work?”

 

“In the springtime, I will stay here when my tribe moves on.” Jivvaar explained.

 

Zira looked upset.  “But… What about the tribe?  They are our family!”

 

Grakk cleared his throat.  “That was what we were negotiating.  Jivvaar’s hunting party are going to stay at the keep as hunters and guards.  That’s me, Elias, Galdeck and Raj-ak. Yerug is going to leave with the tribe. Gorgo, he brought her water while you were sleeping, Jivvaar.  Anyway, he’s asked to replace Yerug. Galdeck is happy because he found an orcess he wants to court properly after the season is over.”

 

“What about you, Grakk?  Did you find anyone?” Zira asked.  

 

Jivvaar scrubbed his face.  Grakk shook his head. Jivvaar stood up, scratched his naked ass and scooped up Zira who had put his shirt back on at some point in the night.  “Bath time,” he announced as he flipped her over his shoulder.

 

“I can walk.” Zira said.

 

Grakk burst out laughing, “Liar!”

 

As promised, Zira blushed for him.

 

\----

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 is getting the most recent stuff (second half of this chapter) hours before tumblr this time.
> 
> Tell me what you think


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zira gets some after care. Politics intensify

Ural looked up from the pencil drawing before her.  “It is a very good likeness.”

 

“Thank you, Keeper.”

 

“Especially given that it was drawn in secret rather than having her sit for you.”

 

Ballic nodded.  She was uncertain what to say to that.  It was a good likeness, given that she wasn’t used to drawing humans.  She was sure she could do better. “If you would let me ask her to sit for me-”

 

“That will be all, Ballic.  You must speak of this to no one.”

 

Ballic bowed and left.

 

Ural sighed and turned to Wolflash.  “It really is very good. I am reluctant to give it up.”

 

Wolflash shrugged, “I has to be your decision, Keeper.”

 

Ural looked hard at the picture, then rolled it up with her letter and sealed it with her official signet.  “How long until it reaches Queen Mila?”

 

Wolflash shrugged.  “It will be at the guard post at Willowdale by nightfall.  From there, well, in theory we have reciprocity with the human court.  In reality, sending a warparty to speak to the Queen-”

 

“Not a war party!  Emissaries of the Great Orc House of Porthcawl!”

 

Wolflash stared at his Keeper.  They both burst out laughing.

 

“Yes, alright, war party.  But even if they were carrying a declaration of war, the humans should make sure it gets to the queen.”

 

Wolflash shrugged.  “A week there and a week back if all goes well. They will be traveling fast, not waiting for caravans full of women and children.  But if the humans decided to be problematic,” Wolflash paused to calculate, “I believe we should have a reply not later than a month.”

 

Ural nodded.  “Please instruct your boys that they are to try to get a reply.”

 

Wolflash nodded.

 

Ural grumbled softly as she head down to check the final arrangements for the wedding feast. She understood what Zira had done.  Jivvaar was her protector and they had been separated for a long time there. Plus the last week of short visits couldn’t have been easy on her either.  

 

The problem was, the woman was still young and not completely aware of what was involved in an orcish wedding.  It would have been more convenient if they had done this the day before or waited a week to restock the Keep larder.  The only advantage was that the clans had already been gathered. A mating doesn’t get much more witnessed than one in the Hall of Elders on a feast day.  And given how enthusiastic her performance had been, no one could say she had been coerced.

 

Ural snorted to herself at that.  Zira was small and she was afraid.  Any orc could see that, could smell that, but that was where most of them stopped paying attention.  After nearly two months of close observation, Ural knew the woman was also clever.  She didn’t doubt that ZIra was fond of Jivvaar, but she also wouldn’t be surprised if someone told her the woman knew what she was doing when she followed a horde of orcs into the wilderness.

 

\----

 

Orc’s had a certain amount of tradition in just tossing their mate over their shoulder and carrying that person off.  Jivvaar, however, was pleased to find that Zira was small enough that he could cradle her in his arms.

 

Watching her play in the bath reminded him of how she was not an orc.  Even in the dim light, he could see where he had left ten fingerprint bruises where he had held tight to her hips in an effort not to trust up into her.  Still, she seemed happy enough with him, his tiny little princess.

 

She gave him that little smile that he craved, “Will you wash my hair?”

 

Jivvaar grunted to avoid embarrassing himself with a lustful voice.  He would wash her hair and anything else she asked of him. Zira wasn’t the first person he had fucked.  Hells, she wasn’t the first female he had fucked. It had never felt like this before. He felt so protective just looking at her.  He could feel his heart swell (among other things).

 

She came over to where he was sitting and stood in front of him.  He began to carefully untangle her hair.

 

That only lasted a moment before he got distracted running his hands down her arms.  She shivered. “Getting cold?” he rumbled.

 

Zira shook her head. “I like it when you touch me like that.”

 

Jivvaar grunted again.  “You scare me Zira.”

 

She turned and gave him a look of disbelief.  “I scare you?”

 

Jivvaar nodded, “You are so fragile.  I don’t want you to get hurt. Orc’s aren’t like humans.  Just because the horde recognize us as mated doesn’t mean you can’t leave.  I don’t want-” Zira grabbed his ears and kissed him full on the lips. Jivvaar retaliated but licking her lips.  “I can’t do that. My tusks get in the way. My lips were not made to kiss you.”

 

Zira grinned at him, “I am just fine with all the things you can do with your lips.”

 

“I left bruises on you.”

 

Now she laughed.  “Tiny bruises. I am not afraid of you hurting me, Jivvaar.”

 

“Mmm,”  he relaxed as she gently tugged on his slightly pointed ears.  “Why are you not afraid of me?”

 

“I don’t have to worry about you hurting me, because you worry about hurting me.  I know you would never hurt me on purpose.”

 

“I could hurt you by accident.”

 

Zira just shook her head.  “You are careful not to. Humans aren’t any safer.  My - the duke’s son didn’t care if he hurt me. There were times when he enjoyed hurting me. And even under his protection, I was still abducted by slavers.”

 

Jivvaar frowned.  That part of the story still bothered him.  “How exactly did that happen?”

 

Zira shrugged, “I was at the market.  There was a ball coming up and I was on my way to be fitted for a new dress.”

 

“By yourself?”

 

ZIra sighed, “Northton is a safe town.  I was allowed to go to the market by myself.  I would go pick out food from the vegetable stalls all the time.  It wasn’t unusual for me to go to the dressmakers. It just happened that the street was empty and some low life saw an opportunity.  My point is. Things happen. You can’t protect me from everything. If you spent too much time worrying about the what ifs, you will drive yourself mad.  I am not afraid because I know you would come for me instead of dithering about how much a barren daughter in law of a non-heir is worth financially.” This last bit came out more bitter than she had intended.  ZIra smiled up at him. “Come, bathe, the water is getting cold.”

 

Jivvaar sighed, “If I ever meet the Duke or his fourth son, I make have to punch them, you understand.”

 

Now she giggled a little, “If you like, but really - we won.  Or at least I think we did. I am happy here. It was worth being in locked in that barn a couple of months to get here with you.”  And here Zira wondered what had happened to the other women she was being kept with.

 

Jivvaar could see exactly when Zira got sad again.  “No it wasn’t. You don’t need to pretend that was OK.  I am happy you are here now, but that doesn’t undo the past.”

 

Zira wrapped her arms around Jivvaar and buried her face in his neck.  Her shoulders shook and a couple of tears ran down her face as he rubbed her back.  After a moment she sighed, stood up straight, wiped the tears from her face and announced, “Time to clean my cum off your chin.  You can’t go to lunch like that.”

 

Jivvaar grumbled.  “Fine. But I want to put it back after lunch.”

 

Zira’s nipples crinkled at that.  She smiled again. It looked good on her.

### \----

 

Queen Mila was not surprised that messengers had been sent from the orc settlement on the southern border.  Her husband’s kingdom had a good relationship with their neighbours. But she was quite surprised that they were here to see her.  She and her husband sat on their thrones on the dais in the throne room. The orcs knelt below them. They were much more on edge than they usually were.

 

The steward gave the message to the king.  The lead orc cleared her throat. “Our instructions are to give the message to the queen and return with a reply.”

 

King Rodavan sneered, “Are you passing love notes to my wife, Orc?”

 

“I am trying to follow orders, sire.”

 

Rovadan opened the letter.  There was a picture of a woman and some random details about how the orcs came by her.  “What is this?” he demanded.

 

“Keeper Ural is wondering if this is the woman your wife is looking for.”

 

The Orcess hadn’t even made it to the end of the sentence before Mila turned to her husband and reached for the letter.   “Zira!” she cried. Then she frantically read the rest of the letter.

 

“This is about that title you asked me not to instate?” Rov asked.

 

Mila nodded.  “Our fathers worked together.  She was always the only person worth talking to at balls growing up.  We would complain about how vile our governesses were. I was sad to hear about the death of her in-laws but was quite excited to see her again at the investature.  She was already married off when we wed. Her father in law did not bring her to our wedding. I haven’t seen her in years.”

 

The orcess cleared her throat, “Your highness?  The woman in that picture insists she has never met Queen Mila.”

 

Mila shrugged.  “She hasn’t. She has met Millie the diplomat’s daughter.  I certainly never advertised that my uncle was the King of Glosnia.”

 

King Rovadan looked hard at the picture.  “How can you be sure this is the same woman?”

 

Mila looked over at him, “You are right, I can’t.  I can be certain that the woman would be Duke Bradley brought was not.  Nor was that baby his and Zira’s. Zira has green eyes and brown hair. Bradley has brown eyes and brown hair.  There is no way they had a blond haired, blue eyed tot together.”

 

Rovadan shrugged, “Sometimes hair or eye colour skips a generation.”

 

Mila shook her head.  “I have met all of their relatives.  The only blonde I have ever seen was the one who claimed to be Zira.  I would believe that baby is hers, but I have no idea who she is.”

 

King Rovadan waved over his scribe, “Please invite Keeper Ural to present her new daughter at court during the Imbolc festival.”

 

After the scribe and the messenger had left, Millie put her hand on her husband’s arm, “Rov?  That baby was a year old, at least. If I am counting correctly, The baby would have been born before Lammas.  The keeper says Zira was taken by slavers at just before Oestara. The Duke and the next three in line for the title all died between Litha and Mabon.  Does that not seem odd?”

 

King Rovadan thought about that.  “It didn’t at the time. Plagues go around.  People die. Often in groups who live together.”

 

Mila nodded, “But for a child to be born and everything to clear the path for him to next in line for a title with in a year?  Legal wife missing, four healthy men dead? Do you not see anything unusual about that?”

 

Rov frowned at that.  “Hmmm.”

 

\----

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

If someone had asked Zira last year, she would have said that sex was highly overrated and an unfortunate side effect of being married.  Now she just realized the Duke’s son hadn’t been very good at it. 

 

Jivvaar didn’t have that problem.

 

She was currently writhing on her bed with his tongue between her legs.  Jivvaar always woke up ready to go and Zira had given him permission to lick her awake their second morning together.  And he did, but he always started with her shoulders. He wouldn’t ever nudge her legs apart until she was awake enough to do it for him.  

 

Her body was adjusting, but Jivvaar was still a big guy.  They had found that if he licked her until her cunt was drooling down her ass, she could roll over and the slide of his cock between her cheeks was pleasing to them both as he rode her only half inside her slit.  

 

Zira had been a little nervous about that, at first.  The Duke’s son had the habit of just bending her over, spitting on her ass and slamming into her hole with no warning.  While he would moan about how wonderful and tight she felt, Zira had been weeping with pain. Jivvaar, however, stroked over her ring of muscle in a way that intensified what his dick was doing buried as deep as it could go in her cunt and what his fingers were doing playing with her clit.

 

She has also come to appreciate that there was always warm water for washing up in her room.  Jivvaar would be happy to walk around coated in her slick all the time, his seed dripping down her legs.  Zira wasn’t as happy with such a bold display of debauchery.

 

At this moment she was laying on her back, blissed out, legs shaking.  Jivvaar had wanted to see how many times she could cum before she passed out.  Zira had lost track, but he was looking ridiculously pleased with himself. She shivered again as her body clenched down on his fingers.  “Too much!” she whined.

 

Jivvaar obliged by rolling his hand so that instead of rubbing her clit, his thumb stroked the space down to her pucker as his fingers lazily pumped in and out of her.

 

Zira fought for words, “Are you going to push that in?”

 

Jivvaar raised an eyebrow, “Do you want me to?”

 

“I don’t know.  It hurts.”

 

Jivvaar immediate froze.  He started to pull his hand away, but Zira whined and grabbed his wrist.  He chuckled softly, then in all seriousness asked, “Am I hurting you, Zira?”

 

She shook her head, then swallowed.  Jivvaar always wanted her to say it. “Not hurting, feels good.”

 

“It feels good when someone does this for me, too.  I don’t really make my own slick, though. I’ll bring tallow sometime and you can try this on me.”  Then, with his fingers fluttering in her cunt and his thumb rubbing little circles on her rosebud, Jivvaar suddenly dipped his head and sucked her clit, hard.

 

Zira came with a cry and wiggled away from him.  Jivvaar felt a smug sense of accomplishment as she lost consciousness.

 

\----

 

Queen Mila was twenty years younger than her husband.  It had been an arranged marriage. He had been pleased to realize that despite societies best attempts, she was an intelligent and thoughtful woman.  In the week before the wedding he had grown quite fond of her. It still didn’t make the wedding night any easier on either of them. Having a frightened seventeen year old come to his bed with a resigned, ‘let’s get this over with’ attitude was not exactly sexy.

 

It was a state secret that the marriage hadn’t been consummated for more than a year.

 

Rov felt that the short term wait had been well worth having a queen who was his partner, not his subject.  It had given him time to woo his wife.

 

King Rovadan thought back to the first time he met Bradley of Northton.   Millie had been so excited to see Zira again. Zira had wed first and the Duke of Northton hadn’t considered her important enough to bring to a state wedding.  Afterwards Millie was upset that she hadn’t listed Zira specifically on the invitation. So when it was announced that Brad and Zira would be the next Duke and Duchess, Millie was understandably pleased.

 

Right up until the chamberlain had announced them and Millie took one look at the couple and said, “Who exactly are you?”

 

“I’m Zira of Northton, your majesty,” the woman replied.

 

“You most certainly are not!” Millie exclaimed.

 

The woman and Bradley looked shocked, but their attendants looked guilty.

 

Bradley of Northton had cleared his throat and said, “I assure you, your majesty, this is my wife, Zira.”

 

Queen Mila had drawn herself up to her full height of 5’5 and announced.  “I have met Zira and this is not her. But if you insist on this charade, her family lives a mere two days ride away.  Let’s summon her father to confirm her identity.” 

 

The look on the two faces gave it away at that point, but given that they were unable to produce Zira, Rovadan had them stay until the matter could be resolved.

 

They were placed under house arrest the next morning when it was discovered the place guards had caught the woman trying to sneak out via the kitchens.

 

Aside from how upset his wife was, Rov had actually found the meeting with Zira’s father quite entertaining.

 

“That most certainly is not my daughter!’ the soap merchant had said.

 

“What!” Bradley had exclaimed, “you told me you were Zira!”

 

Zira’s father frowned at the man, “Have you suffered a head injury?  You were at your wedding, how can you not know your own wife. Where is your father?”

 

Millie had shown her nasty streak then, “That is an excellent point.  Zira’s family is her to attest that this is not her daughter. Who is there to identify this man?  Perhaps the whole Northton family has died and these are both imposters.”

 

In what was clearly an attempt to save himself, Bradley had announced, “Yes!  I have been terribly ill. When I awoke I was told this was my wife and child and I believed it!”  The man was not a convincing liar at this point.

 

After the couple had been escorted to their rooms under guard, Rov and Millie interview the servants and learned the Zira had been abducted and that neither Bradley or the Duke had thought her worth the ransom price.  This news was not well received by either Mila or Zira’s father. By the time word had reached the town where Zira was being held, it had already been raided by orcs. The slavers records had been burned and Rov was more than happy to use this as an excuse to begin the process of outlawing the whole practice

 

It caused some uproar, but Rov had wanted to do that since he came into power.

 

In the meantime, Mila had begun an intensive campaign to find Zira and had put the woman’s father in charge of interviewing women claiming to be the lost duchess.  The letter from the Keeper of Porthcawl was the best lead they had gotten on Zira’s where about. Millie was pushing to have the Keeper come for Yule, but Rov had talked her down.  It was not a safe time of year to travel.

 

Now that she was expecting, Rov was being extra careful with his wife.  He had also personally put his fist through Brad’s nose while informing him that if the stress of knowing her friend was in the hands of slavers caused the queen to miscarry, he, Brad would be executed for treason along with his whore.

 

\----

 

Zira was surprised to learn that despite the stories of dirty orcs, they bathed more regularly than humans did.  It was their sense of smell. When you could very nearly track by scent, having body odor was completely unacceptable.

 

Unless, and this is the part Zira was still struggling with, it was for official purposes.  Clan rank was set by deeds, but individuals were also more or less respected based on who else they smelled like.  Zira was prepared to call Jivvaar a liar when he had tried to explain this to her. But Ural had backed him up. Orcs were extra polite to her because she smelled like Ural from working with her everyday. And she smelled like Jivvaar from sleeping with him at night.

 

She also learned that while Jivvaar had been a respected hunter in his own clan, he was still settling in as guard in the keep.  She had worried that he would be disrespected for marrying a human. Apparently, she had gotten that wrong. He was honoured as the man who had seduced the Keeper’s daughter on the very night of her introduction ceremony.

 

She was currently learning to speak orc while following Ural around and learning what a Keeper did all day.  It wasn’t what she would have expected from a leader. They visited everyone in the keep and, well, gossipped about how the work was going, what problems had come up, what resources they needed.  Ural visited the Elders in the grounds and talked about what help they needed and what they could offer. It seemed to Zira that the Keeper, well, kept everything running smoothly. Ural did not sit in a throne room keeping herself entained, she walked among her horde keeping them fed, safe and healthy.

 

The other thing they did, once Zira’s soaps where cured was take slices to all of the Elders.  Each elder received a bar of each soap and directions to try them all and help decide which works best for orcs.  

 

The immediate feedback was not the lavender, with Graal going so far as to say it smelled like old human trying to hide the smell of their own piss.  Which made Ural laugh and Zira uncomfortable. Graal noticed.

 

“Easy there, little one.  No need to get your hackles up.  It happens to orcs too. We just wash more often so the smell doesn’t build up.” Graal explained.  Then she gave Zira a hard look, “How’s that nephew of mine treating you? If he does you wrong, I will tan his hide and you can trade him in on his brother.”

 

Zira stared at Graal then laughed, “I know you’re teasing, Graal.  I’m not going to fall for that.”

 

Now Ural and Graal shared a look.  Ural cleared her throat, “She isn’t.  If he hurts you, we can undo the pairing.  You would be free to choose another.”

 

Zira was appalled.  “Who would want to be my third husband, if I couldn’t keep the first two?”

 

Graal frowned, “Now you are teasing, right?  The only maker of soap we have, daughter of the Keeper of the House of Porthcawl?  My nephew is damned lucky to have you.”

 

Zira startled at that, “I thought you didn’t like me!”

 

Graal shook her head.  “I didn’t like you with Yerug.  You are perfect for Jivvaar. He needs a mate he can take care of.  Orcesses have no time for that nonsense.” Her eyes narrowed. “How are you settling in?”

 

“I’m fine.” Zira replied automatically.

 

Ural and Graal exchanged another look.  Then Ural asked, “And how are you really?”

 

Zira gaped, then giggled nervously.  “Orcs don’t eat as much veg as I am used to, so I’m a little … uncomfortable just now  Jivvaar is… keeping me really tired.”

 

Ural stared at Zira, “You’re tired and you can’t poop?”

 

Zira blushed, “I just need to eat more fruit!”

 

Graal nodded slowly, “Why don’t we head back to the keep and get you some stewed prunes?  That will help you grow strong blood too.”

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> feels

Zira wrinkled her nose.  Stewed prunes weren’t exactly on her list of favourite foods, but it was what she needed just now.  She kept getting pointed looks from the older orcs in the kitchen and both Graal and Ural were being uncomfortably attentive.  

 

Finally, Graal said, “It is more difficult when you go first.”

 

Zira peeked up at her, “I honestly don’t know what that means.”

 

Ural cleared her throat and refilled Zira’s tea.  “Jivvaar’s hunting party. Eventually, they will all find mates and the twelve of you will branch off as your own tribe.  You will either travel together or settle together and raise children together. But Jivvaar found you before all the others have mates for you to spend time with.  That is more difficult.”

 

Zira nodded.  She felt tears pricking at her eyes, but she ignored that.  She was more loved and supported here than she had been before.  But it wasn’t as though she had anyone her own age to talk to. The culture gap was a problem when talking to the orcesses her approximately her age group.  They had all either already been married for a couple of years or were just starting to court whichever male they were most happy with after the end of mating season.

 

Really, however, any loneliness she felt was still better than living in her father in law’s house.

 

As she finished her bowl of prunes, she took a big swig of tea to get the taste out of her mouth.  Ural nodded and took the bowl. “Why don’t you go lie down for a while? You have time to rest before supper.”

 

Zira nodded and stood up.

 

“When are you going to tell Jivvaar?” Graal asked.

 

Zira froze, “I am barely married.  I can’t very well tell my husband that I am too tired to fuck.”

 

That got the attention of every orcess in the room. The baker who’s name Zira didn’t even know, shook her head angrily.  “You most certainly can! What kind of monsters do you think we are!” The were not so subtle murmerings of agreement around the room.

 

“Just ‘cus yur mated doesn’t mean he own you!” called another.

 

“I was there!” announced a third, “If anyone is doing the owning in that relationship, it’s you!  Just tell him to leave you alone!”

 

Zira stared around the room.  She opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it closed and blushed hard.  She didn’t want him to leave her alone. She just felt tired, but she really didn’t want to get into that with a bunch of motherly orcs in the kitchen.  So she nodded and fled to her room.

 

\----

 

Jivvaar stood in the room and watched Zira sleeping.  It was the third time he had to wake her for dinner. It was passed time to admit that he was hurting her some way.  He sat on the bed next to her and carefully carded his fingers through her hair. Instead of wearing it up, like a married humie would, she had it down, in braids, like an orc.  Her tiny pink ears hiden until he carefully brushed her hair away.

 

She stirred then, murmuring in her sleep and creeping her fingers over to find him.  She pulled her head into his lap and wrapped her arms around his waist without opening her eyes.  Jivvaar carefully traced a finger over her eyebrow, “Zira? Can you wake up for me, love?” He watched as she fought to pry her eyes open.  “You need to tell me when I’m not taking care of you, not giving you enough time to sleep at night. You don’t have to let me lick you awake in the morning.”

 

Zira pushed herself groggily upright.  “But that is my favourite part of the day!” she grumbled.

 

Jivvaar chuckled softly, “But if you can’t make it through the day on the amount of sleep you are getting-”

 

Zira stubbornly shook her head, “It isn’t you.  Orcs eat differently than I’m used to. My blood has gotten weak, but Ural and Graal are giving me stuff to eat to fix that.”

 

Jivvaar frowned, “Zira, you have been eating orc food for months.  You have only been sleeping like this since we mated. If I can’t trust you to tell me what you need.   When you need me to stop…” He sighed. “One of us has to be responsible for your rest.”

 

Zira shivvered and pulled away.  She turned her back on him and hugged her knees to her chest.  “It isn’t you or anything you are doing. I can’t poop. It feels like I have rocks in my guts.  That is what is making me tired. Graal and Ural are feeding me prunes and it’s helping, but I just need a little extra sleep to recover.  Please believe me, this isn’t anything you did.”

 

Jivvaar looked at her, “Is that true?”

 

Zira sat up and glared at him.  “If you don’t believe me, talk to your aunt.”

 

Jivvaar sighed and pulled Zira carefully into his lap. “I love you, Zira.  I don’t want to do anything to hurt you. Or make you sick.”

 

Zira smiled up at him and stretched her neck up so she could kiss his chin. Jivvaar smiled back at her.  “Do orcs grow beards?” Zira asked. “I’ve never seen you shave.”

 

Jivvaar laughed, “Not until we are old.”  He thought about that for a moment, “Are you disappointed?”

 

Zira grinned and shook her head.  “Time for supper?”

 

Jivvaar nodded.  “Are you really alright?”

 

Zira shrugged.  “I will be.”

 

Supper was venison stew.  Zira had learned that unless it was a feast day, Orcs didn’t really eat a lot of meat.  They ate a lot of stew where meat was the flavouring. And while a more vegatable rich diet seemed like a good thing, it was all cooked: boiled, fried or roasted.  It made it easier for the very young or the very old to eat the same food as everyone else but it wasn’t exactly what she was used to. Dinner was served on one big trencher at the center of each table and everyone ripped off a hunk of bread to use as a spoon or would use their knife as a spear to grab what they wanted.

 

Zira had never actually been stabbed, nor had she seen anyone else stabbed, but it was always a quiet fear in the back of her head.

 

She and Jivvaar sat at what was arguebly the head table, although it was not nearly as formal as when humies organized seating arrangements.  She always sat near Ural and Jivvaar always on her other side so that he was never better her and her adopted mother. It was a nice symbolizism that Zira rather liked, since she had never even been at the same table with her own mother growing up.

 

Today when she sat down, Gorgo came over and placed a plate of liver and onions and raw carrots in front of her.  Zira groaned and muttered, “ugh, liver,” under her breath. When she looked up Jivvaar was staring at her with wided eyed disbelief.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” he demanded.

 

Zira was immediately ashamed.  “I’m sorry. I know how much effort you put into catching that deer and cooking the liver for me.  It’s just… it’s kind of chewy. And I’m not used to it.”

 

Jivvaar shook his head as if to clear it, “What?” he demanded sounding confused.

 

Zira flinched.  “I will eat the liver.  I hear it is good for my blood.”

 

Jivvaar kept staring at her, right up until Graal leaned over and hit him with her spoon.  “You are being rude!” she announced. “Leave it be! Humies don’t work the same as us.”

 

Zira was by now just mortified.  She kept her head down and avoided eye contact with everyone as she ate and hurried off back to her room as soon as was polite.  Or at least that was the plan. Jivvaar, who was usually fairly physical at the best of times spent the whole meal rubbed her back or leanning in to nuzzle her face.  Grakk, who was stilling across the table was grinning his fool head off.

 

That made Zira desidely uncomfortable, until she noticed Raj-ak taking advantage of his distraction to steal food out from under his nose.  About the time, he switched his empty glass for Grakk’s still full one, Zira had to press her face into Jivvaar’s chest to hide he giggle.

 

Unfortunately, Jivvaar misinterpreted the shoulder shaking.  “What’s wrong?” he asked, conern in his voice.

 

Zira choked and grinned up at him, “You’rehunting party is ridiculous.  You know that, right?”

 

Jivvaar looked down at her, then across at Grakk, beaming like an idiot and Raj-ak looking way too innoncent to actually not be guilty of something.  “Hmm. Yes, I beleive I do know that.”

 

As it was, Jivvaar waited until after the meal.  He waited while Zira drank the mint tea with honey one of the elders had made for her.  He managed not to laugh that the mug was so large Zira had to use both hands to lift it.

 

After food, the tables were stacked along the perimeter of the room for music and dancing.  It was a good way to keep in shape over the winter, with hand stands and flips being part of orc dancing.  Zira tended to mostly just stay clear. Tonight, she put her hands on Jivvaar’s hips and stretched up so that her lips where at his ear and said, “Can you just carry me to bed?”

 

With her warm breath in his ear, her breasts rubbing again his chest and her hands holding his waist, his dick was more than ready to bed her right there and then.

 

With his usual stellar time, Wolflash beconed them over.  Jivvaar groaned, but scooped up Zira and carried her into the man’s study.

 

Wolflash raised an eyebrown at the two of them.  Ural was already seated by the fire.

 

Jivvaar came in and sat them in one of the other chairs.

 

“Zira?” Ural asked.  “How will you know if you are pregnant?”

 

Zira startled and blushed.  “I can’t get pregnant, Mother Ural.  I was married for five years without even a miscarriage.  I am barren.” She swallowed, then looked up to Jivvaar, “I was completely open and honest about that.”

 

Ural frowned.  “How would another human know if she were pregnant, then?”

 

Zira shrugged.  “If she misses two cycles, I guess.”

 

Ural nodded.  “When was your last cycle?”

 

Zira looked over at Wolflash and blush.  She ducked her head and said softly, “I finished the week before we mated.  But my cycle has never been regular. I don’t know when it will come again.”  Jivvaar traced little circles over her back with her fingers.

 

Wolflash cleared his throat.  “How do you know it was you that was barren and not your hus- your former husband?”

 

Here Zira pressed her lips tight together and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.  “He was able to have a child with the scullery maid, Lord Wolflash.” Zira took a couple of deep breaths.  She opened her eyes and looked at Ural. “Sayyass told me that we could raise an unwanted chi-”

 

“There are no unwanted children!” Wolflash said firmly.  “Only children who were not born to their families.”

 

Zira nodded.  “Perhaps our child will be born to someone else.”  Ural was staring at her. “What?”

 

The Keeper cleared her throat, “You are matching the symptoms of the orcs who caught pregnant this season.”

 

Zira frowned.  “When humans are pregnant, they are sick in the mornings.  I am not. I am just tired.”

 

Ural nodded slowly, “Morning sickness won’t start until next moon.”  Jivvaar’s face lit up like a sunrise. Zira just looked stunned. Oh dear, thought Ural. “Zira?” she asked gently.  “Do you want to carry a child?”

 

The smaller woman started to tremble.  “How could I carry to term? I am so much smaller than Jivvaar.”

 

Now Jivvaar looked panicked.  “Would it tear out of her?”

 

Ural shook her head.  “There are half orcs out there, with living human mothers.  If Zira is pregnant and if she carries to term the babe will be born small but catch up by adulthood.”

 

Zira swallowed, “ _ IF _ I am pregnant and  _ IF _ I carry to term.”

 

Ural looked at her adopted daughter and saw her sadness.  She crossed the room and pressed her forehead to Zira’s. “You are loved and will be protected no matter what.”

 

Zira nodded and hugged Ural tight sobbing softly into her shoulder.  Jivvaar was at a loss. He stroked Zira’s back and tried to make reassuring sounds.  He was not reassured himself.

  
  
  



	11. Ardra

Rov was spooned up behind his wife, his hand gently stroking her bump.  He adored Mila in a way that was not traditionally required, so he hadn’t taken well to the suggestion that he no longer come to her bed once her cycle stopped.  This meant that he was familiar with her morning dash to be sick in the garderobe and how her breasts were full and tender. 

 

Millie moaned softly and caught his wrist, sliding his hand carefully but insistently between her legs.

 

Rov chuckled.  He and his wife had always enjoyed each other, as his mother would say, more than was strictly necessary.  And now that Mila was pregnant, it had only gotten worse. She wanted him all the time. The Queen is not supposed to drag the King into one of the servants’ cupboards for a quickie.  But nonetheless, it was happening. And after they had been caught that time, the servants were careful to make a lot of noise before opening any door these days. Which was humorous for Rov on a whole other level.

 

The midwife had warned him not to force his wife until she delivered his heir.

 

Rov had frowned at that.

 

The midwife had misunderstood, “Don’t give me that look, your highness!  You can use one of the serving girls for know. You can do anything to hurt the baby if you want Queen Mila to give you a son!  You fuck her too hard now and you will break off the baby’s penis and make it a girl!”

 

Rov wasn’t a specialist on women’s health like the midwife, but he was well read and he was pretty sure it didn’t work that way.  He was much more appalled at the idea of forcing Mila, ever.

 

When he discussed it with his butler, the man had assured him that most lords (who are not as handsome and powerful as your majesty) had to force their wives to give them children.

 

Rov was at a loss for words.  Before he was married, there was no shortage of women looking to milk the heir apparent.  There still wasn’t, to be honest, but he could never dishonour Mila like that.

 

Once he had help Millie finish, she yawned and stretched and said.  “Are we going to keep the would be duke and the fake Zira until the real one gets here?”

 

Rov wiped his mouth and said, “What else do you think we should do with them?”

 

“I don’t know.  But I don’t want them to be duke and duchess.”

 

Rov considered this.  “I agree. Even setting aside the incredibly suspicious circumstances behind Brad’s rise to power, the man is clearly unfit to rule.”

 

“The man is clearly an idiot.”

 

“Yes, darling, that’s what I said.”

 

Millie sighed, “Spring is a very long time away.  Perhaps we could send someone to Porthcawl to see what they can find out about the Zira the Keeper has adopted.

 

“That sounds like an excellent idea!  We will send official Yule tidings.” It was a bit unusual, but Rov would do anything for his wife.

 

\----

 

In the five years Ardra had been a diplomatic emissary for King Rovadan this was by far the most ridiculous mission she had ever been sent on.  She was officially being sent to convey Yuletide greeting to the Keeper of Porthcawl. 

 

The problem wasn’t that she was going to be away from her family at Yule, hell, it would finally be a chance to have Yule feast without one of her aunts commenting on how much turkey she was eating or asking if she had found a husband yet.  Ardra didn’t have a problem with her weight, even if it sometimes seemed like everyone else did.

 

No.  The problem was the week travelling on horseback through the snow.  And the guards that had been sent with her! Wesley and Semus were both tall and buff and, frankly gorgeous. It wasn’t just the weather that had kept her nipples rock hard for the last week.  They were sweet and flirty and so, SO nice to her.

 

And they would also find secluded places to stop for lunch.  Light a nice fire, take off their shirts so that their chest muscles gleamed in the sunlight.

 

But listening to them duck out into the woods for a quickie was starting to get to her.

 

She didn’t care that they were having sex.  But it was beyond frustrating that she wasn’t.

 

Then, they arrived at the orc stronghold full of big strong orcs running around almost naked by human standards.  She had hoped to just deliver the damn Yule tiding then duck off to her room for some alone time, but no. She was just in time for dinner and the woman she was supposed to try to get information on had offered to help her get ready.

 

Damn.

 

Well, duty called.

 

Ardra was good at this.  No one suspected the, well, frankly, the  _ fat girl _ to be a spy.  When you are female and overweight the sad truth was that you were also overlooked.  Ardra had learned to use that to her advantage.

 

Except it wasn’t working this time.  Zira had managed to duck every question about her past and redirect it to a story about her current husband, with whom she was clearly besotted, or the orc’s brother, Grakk.

 

Grakk was .... a problem for Ardra.  He was fucking HUGE! More than a foot taller than her and had so many muscles that when he flexed other muscles had to get out of the way first.  He had black hair and light green skin and one of his tusks had a chip on the end which only served to give his features a gorgeous rakish lack of symmetry.   And now she was sitting next to him breathing in that slightly musky orcish smell as he flirted and she passed him the bread.

 

“You aren’t taking any?” he asked.  “It’s made with duck fat. It’s really good.”

 

“I don’t need any.” Ardra said softly.

 

Grakk frowned.  “You humies are always weird about food.” He plopped a slice on her plate.  “Eat up. I like a girl with some meat on her bones.”

 

Ardra didn’t really like people telling her what to eat, but she put on her best diplomatic smile and took a bite to be polite.

 

It was the best damn bread she had ever tasted.

 

Grakk grinned at the look on her face and said, “I informed you thusly!”

 

“What?” Ardra asked feeling confused.

 

“That’s fancy formal talk for I told you so,” he said with a wink and a smile.

 

This time, when Ardra smiled at him, it was a real smile.

 

The mead was flowing.  Grakk was charming in a haphazard way that was either completely genuine or made him the best actor Ardra had ever met.  She was surprised to find she was having a really good time. After dinner, there was dancing. She didn’t normally dance, but when she told Grakk that, he said, “That’s OK.  I’ll help.”

 

And with that he put a hand under her arse and lifted her off the ground.  Ardra made an undignified squeak in surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck.  Grakk spun over to the centre of the dance floor and dance three songs holding her with her legs dangling off the floor.  There weren’t many humans that could do that.

 

There hadn’t ever been a human who had bothered.

 

At the end of the third song, someone named Raj-ak came over with a cup of cool water for Ardra.  Ardra offered it Grakk instead, but he was too busy glaring at Raj-ak.

 

“Piss off and find your own girl!” he growled.

 

Ardra’s eyebrows went up at that.

 

Grakk chuckled at her expression.  “You know, I finally figured out what is wrong with your thighs.”

 

Ardra braced herself for the nasty comment she knew was coming.

 

“They would look so much better around my ears.” Grakk said.  Then he wiggled his ears at her.

 

Ardra burst out laughing.  It was the worst pick up line she had ever heard.  It was so bad it was actually working.

 

Grakk leaned forward, “Why don’t you come back to my room and we fix that?”

 

Ardra looked Grakk dead in the eyes. His pupils were huge. He was smiling down at her.  He held eye contact for moment then raised and eyebrow and looked down. Ardra instinctively followed his gaze to where he was pitching a giant tent in his kilt.  She gasped and felt her face get hot, happy the light brown of her skin would hide most of her blush.

 

And now she was straddling his lap on her bed as he stroked her hair and kissed her neck and praised the soft fullness of her lips and told her she had the most adorable elven chin.  

 

“My goddess! You smell so good!  So wet! Is that for me, Ardra?” Grakk asked as his cupped her breast and thumbed her nipple.

 

Ardra shivered and panted and reached back to untie her bodice.  It had been laced tight forcing her body into a more socially acceptable shape, but as it fell away Grakk growled, “So much better!”  He ran his hands over her, making a deep rumbling in his chest. “You are so fucking beautiful! How is it that I am lucky enough to have you here with me?”

 

Ardra smiled shyly.  “Nice men are hard to find.”

 

“Pfft!  Men! You need an orc to worship you properly.”

 

Ardra giggled like a school girl instead of the seasoned diplomat she was.  “Maybe I do.”

 

Grakk took that as the permission he had been waiting for and shucked her out of her dress.  “Let me see if I was right about those thighs,” he said almost diving between them. He didn’t even hesitate to slip his tongue inside her and slurp up a mouthful of her juices.  He groaned, “You taste amazing!” Then he surged forward so he was covering her and kissed her lips aggressively so she could taste the sweet flavour of herself on his mouth, one hand squeezing her breast and the other thumbing her clit.

 

Ardra’s hips bucked under his touch.

 

“Need something?” Grakk teased.

 

“You!  I need you Grakk!”

 

He grinned and flicked her clit with his index finger making her jump and gasp.  “I don’t know. You could be a spy.”

 

Ardra gasped again, but he had a twinkle in his eyes.  “I could be,” she moaned, prepared to play along.

 

He flicked her clit again.  “Here to seduce the orc guard into telling you the Keeper’s secrets.”

 

Ardra moaned, “Please, Grakk!  I just need you! I don’t want to play!”

 

Grakk ducked he head and lapped at her.  His tongue everywhere but where she needed it.  “Why are you here, Ardra? What do you want?”

 

“I want your cock, Grakk!  Please!”

 

Grakk chuckled and climbed up her, rubbing the head of his dick over her folds.  “You want me to fuck you so full of my seed that you go home and have a whole litter of orc pups?” he asked.  Ardra felt her body responding to that suggestion. Then suddenly, his thumb was swirling through the wetness of her cunt on it’s way to the pucker of her ass, where it rubbed against her rosebud.  “Or do you want to spend all week thinking of me.”

 

Ardra whined, “Please!” and pulled his hand forward again.  Her cunt shuddered trying to find some friction. She grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him up, which mostly made her slide down the bed to him.

 

“Well, since you ask so nice,” Grakk said as he kissed her cheek his tusks scraping light against her face.  He caught her hand and brought it down to his cock. It was so big she couldn’t close her fingers around it. “Flip over,  it will keep me from pushing too deep.”

 

Ardra did as she was told.  Grakk was so big that on his hands as knees he could easily cage her in.  He didn’t just slam into her cunt. He carefully worked the tip in, sitting up so he could rub her back.  “That’s it, beautiful. You are doing so good.” He ran his hand around to her belly and held her still as he slowly rocked forward.  “Holy fuck you are tight!”

 

Ardra whimpered, he was stretching her so full, and he kept pushing deeper until she had no idea how she could take anymore.  Sure enough he gently nudged against her cervix. Her whole body shuddered.

 

“Ummm.  Too far.” Grakk declared backing almost all the way out. 

 

Ardra whine at the loss, already strung out beyond words.  She tried to rock back against him, but he wouldn’t let her.  “Please!” she begged, “Please, Grakk! Move!”

 

“Tell me why King Rovadan sent you!”

 

“I’m here to deliver-” the sentence was cut off with a spank.  Ardra jumped.

 

“Why are you here?” he repeated, thumbing her clit.  “I’m not going to let you cum until you tell me.”

 

Ardra screamed in frustration.  “I’m supposed to gather information on Zira!  Now move, damn it!”

 

Now Grakk began to pound into her, never going too deep. His thumb working her clit he easily fucked her through two orgasms until her body was limp in his arms.  She felt his pace starting to get erratic, then he pinched her clit and she came again. Her scream mingled with his roar as his balls contracted and his seed gushed into her body.  It flooded deep into her and dripped down her legs as Grakk rode out the last of his own pleasure.

 

In the morning, Ardra woke with Grakk snuggling her close like a child might with a favourite toy.  He smiled down at her, “Can we do that again?” he asked.

 

\----

 

Grakk was sitting behind Ardra in the public baths, carefully combing out her hair and praying for snow.  She wouldn’t be able to return to court if she was snowed in for the winter. He would need to give he a fur.  He could wait to see if she really was carrying his pups! He and Jivvaar could raise their little half orcs together.

 

Jivvaar was walking through the bath hall Grakk opened his mouth to introduce his brother when Jivvaar reached over and pushed his head under the water.

 

As he came up, sputtering and coughing, he looked up through bleary eye and demanded, “What the hell was that for?”

 

Jivvaar leaned forward and growled, “Payback is a bitch, isn’t it?”  Then he winked at Ardra, said, “Madam Ambassador,” and strolled out of the room whistling happily to himself.

 

Ardra looked over at Grakk who was still trying to push his hair out of his eyes.  She had her lips pushed tight together and was trying so very hard not to laugh. Grakk shook his head like a dog, spraying her with water.  The dissolved into laughter together.

 

\----

 

Ardra cleaned up and hobbled down for lunch.  She had missed breakfast. After the second time, Grakk had shown her how orcs clean up their messes.  That was something to remember.  Then they had gone for a bath.

 

Wesley gave her an appraising look.  “You look well fucked out,” he said.

 

Ardra grinned, “One of the warriors wanted to know why we are here.  He found a way to get me to tell him that we want information on Zira.”

 

Semus frowned, “So?  It’s not exactly a secret.  You could have just told him.”

 

Ardra giggled.  “Now, where’s the fun in that?”

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

The next moon came.  Zira’s cycle did not.  In stead, one morning, she woke up, sat up and promptly vomited into the chamber pot.

 

Jivvaar held her hair and got her some water to rinse her mouth with.  Zira laughed because the whole thing was just so ridiculous. All that time, all that uncomfortable sex with Bradley, and she had never caught.  Now it looked like it only took Jivvaar the one try to plant a baby in her.

 

He spent the day fussing over her.  He made her stay in bed. He brought her food and little treats and books to read.  He made sure her tea pot was always full and her chamber pot was always empty. Zira felt inappropriately pampered.

 

The next morning, she woke up, sat up and promptly vomited into the chamber pot.  Then she looked at Jivvaar as she rinsed her mouth and said, “This is going to get old fast.”

 

He spent the day fussing over her.  He tried to make her stay in bed. He brought her food and little treats and fabric to sew babby clothes.  He panicked when she snuck out to go check on the soap. He made sure her tea pot was always full and her chamber pot was always empty.  Zira felt exhausted and annoyed.

 

By the end of the fifth day, Zira appealed to Ural for help.  “I can’t spend the next nine months in bed!”

 

Ural nodded in agreement, “You are right, you can’t.”

 

Then they turned on Jivvaar.

 

He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, “What if she trips and falls down the stairs?” he demanded.

 

Ural narrowed her eyes in return, then said politely to Zira, “Daughter?  Will you excuse us for a moment?” Zira was barely out of the room when the shouting started.

 

She was pretty sure she could hear someone throwing things.

 

She waited patiently.

 

And kept waiting.

 

One of the orc warriors came to speak to Ural, but froze outside the door and gave Zira a nervous look.  “Um?” he asked.

 

“My mother is explaining to my husband about how to care for a pregnant woman.”

 

The orc’s face lit up.  “Wow! You are a breeder now?  If you ever get bored of Jivvaar,  I would love to please you, especial when you are round like the moon.”

 

Zira frowned, “Are women supposed to have sex while they are heavily pregnant?”

 

The orc shrugges, “Dunno.  But they sure as shit want to.”

 

Zira blushed.  “Well, my shit isn’t a sure thing right now.”

 

“Huh.  When my sister was pregnant, she needed to eat extra flax. They will start making it into bread soon for all the females that caught this season.  I bet if you asked, the cooks would start early for you.”

 

Zira considered this.  Something heavy bounced off the inside of the door.  “Thank you,” she said, “I will.”

 

The orc whistled tunelessly for a moment. “Holy hell, I would not want Keeper Ural as a mother in law!”  Then he remembered himself and looked down at Zira, “Begging your pardon, of course.”

 

Zira shrugged. “They both care for me.  This is just negotiation about the best way to go that.”

 

The door flung open and Jivvaar stormed out.  Zira hesitated a moment the chased after him. “Jivvaar!  Please wait!”

 

He immediate froze.  He turned and caught her as she reached him.  She was promptly scooped up so that he could nuzzle against her belly.  He nipped lightly against her breasts, rubbed his face against the crook of her neck then carefully set her on her feet and bowed so the his forehead was pressed to hers.

 

“I want to keep you safe and health Zira.  RIght now, I don’t give a rats ass about whatever little parasite you are growing in there yet.  I can’t help you grow it. All I can do is try to take care of you while you do.”

 

Zira smiled up at him, “I love you, too Jivvaar.”

 

“Just don’t…. ugh!  Goddess! Just don’t die on me!”

 

“I will be fine.  Women do this all the time.”

 

Jivvaar frowned, “Zira, women die from this all the time.”

 

“I will be fine.”  Zira tilted her head up to kiss him on the lips.  “Now, what are we going to do about that brother of yours?”

 

Jivvaar frowned, “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, Ardra is leaving tomorrow.  I would expect him to be .. upset by that.”  Jivvaar just looked at her blankly. Zira sighed.  “Jivvaar! Grakk has been sleeping in her room all week!  How have you not noticed?”

 

Jivvaar grunted, then scooped his wife up, sweeping her off her feet, “I’ve been a little distracted.”

 

Zira just shook her head.  “I like Ardra! I wish we could keep her!”

 

“Why can’t we?”

 

“Well, she is a diplomatic envoy from King Rovadan.  The human king may want her back.”

 

Jivvaar thought to himself, ‘Grakk is just jealous that I got a wife and he didn’t.’   He suspected actually voicing that opinion might not be the best idea. What he actually said was, “What do you need me to do?”  He was prepared for his wife to instruct him on some friendly neighbourhood kidnapping. He was less impressed when she said:

 

“Once she leaves, he may need you to spend more time with him.  Help get his mind off of her.”

 

“Zira?  Are you sure this isn’t a make work job to keep me from taking care of you?”

 

“No!”

 

Jivvaar didn’t actually believe that, but he was prepared to go along with it.  Graal had said that if Zira stopped moving around the delivery would be harder on her.  He was also shocked when the elder pointed out the the baby would be bigger than his wife’s fist and that he had eight months to get her body ready to push something that big out.  Jivvaar hadn’t really considered that until she brought it up.

 

He decided to change the subject.  "Do you think we should refuse King Rovadan’s invitation to attend Imbolc now or closer to the day?”

 

Zira stiffened in his arms.  “I wasn’t planning on declining!  I hadn’t really thought about it.”

 

Jivvaar set her carefully on her feet.  “How big are human’s at five months with with child?”

 

Zira looked a little nervous, “I’m not entirely sure!  I couldn’t even guess about how that would work with a half orc pregnancy.  That is assuming I haven’t lost it by then.”

 

“It’s a week’s travel to the human capital.  The roads won’t be good in February. If anything happens on the road, you would be at the mercy of those quacks the humies use as doctors.”

 

Zira felt a sting at that, “They aren’t quacks!”

 

Jivvaar frowned, “Zira,  they believe that making people bleed makes them healthier.  Anyone who has spent five minutes on a battlefield-”

 

“It’s different!” Zira protested.  “Something to do with the humours.”

 

“Uh huh.” Jivvaar wasn’t going to argue with his wife about this.  But he also wasn’t going to let any human do anything to his wife until they demonstrated it was safe by doing it to themself first.  Instead of making this announcement, he decided to try the diplomatic approach. “Why don’t we wait and see how you are feeling then?”

 

Zira narrowed her eyes, but nodded.

 

\-----

 

The trip back to the capital hadn’t been any more fun for Ardra than the trip to Porthcawl, although the furs the boys had sent with her meant that it was warmer.  At least the snow kept her travelling companions from taking extended lunch breaks.

 

When she announced Zira’s pregnancy, Queen Mila squealed and kicked her feet.

 

“We will have babies together!” she exclaimed.  The she stopped and turned to her husband, “PLEASE let me be there when we share this news with Bradley!”

 

The guards brought in the would be Duke and Ardra made the announcement again.  She wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but having the man scream, “Liar!” and try to attack her wasn’t it.  Fortunately, one of the guards brought him down before he got to her. 

 

She didn’t think anyone else was close enough to heard the guard whisper, “Fuck! And you were married for five years?  Didn’t anyone ever explain which hole you are supposed to use?”

 

At that point, Bradley completely lost it, swearing and flailing.  The guard took the opportunity to bounce the not duke’s face off the marble floor, before whispering, “That’s for slapping the serving girls, you stupid cunt.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please! I'm sorry I'm not responding as quickly as I used to, but I promise every one brightens my day


	13. Chapter 13

All things considered, Rov decided it would be best to send a squad of guards to the Northton castle.  They had instructions to pack up anything that looked like Bradley’s personal effects and to search the rest of the place for signs of foul play.

 

Mila didn’t expect them to find anything.

 

Rov shook his head.  “The servants see everything.  Someone knows something. You are right, there are too many coincidences.  I need to know what the hell happened in Northton.”

 

\----

 

Zira was checking the soap.  Ural and Jivvaar had both ganged up on her so that she wouldn’t make another batch for a while.  They didn’t like her handling the lye. But now as she was checking to see how the previous soap was curing, Raj-ak was watching her.

 

“What?” Zira demanded.

 

Raj-ak just shrugged.  “Need any help?”

 

“Why are you following me?”

 

“It’s winter.  Can’t hunt as much now.”

 

“Really.”  Zira made it clear she didn’t believe him.

 

Raj-ak shrugged.  “And it make Jivvaar happy to know one of us is with you.  After the rest of us get hitched, you can keep an eye on our wives.  But since you went first, you have to put up with us.”

 

Zira’s eye narrowed, “And you are safe, right?”

 

Raj-ak’s ears pinned hard for a moment.  His eyes narrowed. “That is the first time you have been an ass to me.  I will let it pass because you are pregnant. Don’t do it again.”

 

Zira’s eyes went wide.  “I thought…” she trailed off.

 

Raj-ak tensed.

 

Zira swallowed, “Aren’t you still part of Jivvaar’s hunting party?  Only he told me I could trust…” she trailed off. Then she looked down and started to smell nervous.

 

“Is that what you meant?” Raj-ak asked carefully.

 

Zira nodded.  “I didn’t ever think I would be unsafe in the keep,” she whispered, leaving the ‘until now’ unspoken.

 

Raj-ak nodded.  “I’m not any good at this.  I wish Ardra had stayed.”

 

Zira looked up at him, “She works for a foreign king.”

 

Raj-ak nodded.  “I wouldn’t have made her stay.  I just wish she would have.”

 

“You miss her.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Zira thought about this.  “Are you going to come with us when Jivvaar and I go visit King Rovandan in the spring?”

 

Raj-ak looked a bit shocked at that.  “Are you still going?”

 

Zira pressed her lips together and frowned at him. “I hope so.”

 

Raj-ak tactfully changed the subject to, “What are you going to give Jivvaar for Yule?”

 

Zira panicked, “I don’t know!  I have nothing! I…. “ she started to cry.

 

Raj-ak’s looked horrified.  “I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

 

Zira shook her head.  “I’m getting fat. And I keep throwing up all the time and I can’t make him anything because I’m useless and I can’t buy him anything because I have no way to pay and I can’t leave the keep.”  She wiped her eyes on her apron and mumbled, “Jivvaar would have been better off finding an orc wife. And now he is stuck with me.”

 

Raj-ak cleared his throat.  “Um… why don’t we go talk to Ural about what to do about Yule presents?  You aren’t getting fat; you are growing a baby. And I know for a fact that Jivvaar wanted you more than an orc wife.  He could have had his pick on the breeding…. Um…. that is…. He loves you more than anyone.”

 

This was decidedly unhelpful.

 

By the time they found Ural, Zira has fallen into a silent, depressed, funk.

 

Ural listened carefully to Zira’s sniffly explanation of what was wrong.  Then she listened to Raj-ak’s embarrassed admission of how they got to that point.  Then she gave Raj-ak a smack and took Zira to her office.

 

“Of course you have money.  You have been the clan soap maker for months.  How much of it would you like?”

 

“I… don’t know.”

 

“What would you like to buy him?”  Ural asked patiently.

 

Zira thought hard.  “He needs a new belt.  And he’s down a knife since he gave me one.”

 

Ural nodded.  “Raj-ak and Grakk will take you and a cart to Willowdale after breakfast.  There will be plenty of places for you to shop for presents. And having a pair of orcs along will keep anyone from cheating you.  In the meantime, why don’t you go have a nap? I need a word with Raj-ak.”

 

\-----

 

Zira woke to Jivvaar rubbing her back.  “ umm…’at’s nice…” she mumbled.

 

“I hear Raj-ak made you cry today.”

 

“Yeah.  I’m sorry.  I’ll tell him I’m sorry.  I’m just… a mess.”   
  


Jivvaar snorted.  “You aren’t a mess.  You aren’t fat. You are pregnant.  And that is hard. And exhausting.”

 

“I’m hardly pregnant and my boobs hurt and my clothes are too tight.  And I am complaining too much. I can tell that I am whiny but I can’t help myself.”

 

Jivvaar was silent for a long moment.  “Well,” he finally said, “I can only think of one way to fix that.”

 

Zira sniffled, “How?” she blurted.

 

“Easy.  I keep you naked in bed and fucked out of your mind until you either feel better or the baby comes.”

 

Zira snorted.  “You are planning on keeping my fucked out of my mind for the next… seven months?”

 

Jivvaar leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers before carefully licking her lips.  “Yes.”

 

Zira shook her head and kissed him back.  

 

Jivvaar nuzzled her neck, “Let’s get you out of these uncomfortable clothes.”

 

Zira snorted, but let him untie her dress and pull it off over her head.  That wasn’t as easy as it had been, it was a little snug over the belly. Not enough for anyone to notice unless they were looking for it, but enough that the seams had pressed into her flesh.

 

Jivvaar tsked then carefully nuzzled and licked over each compression line.  Eventually he ended up with his nose between her breasts. He gave her a long sniff.  Zira giggled and squirmed. “That tickles.”

 

“You smell so good.  I can smell how full of life you are.  Extra juicy.”

 

Zira gasped and blushed.  “Um… yeah. That’s really awkward actually.”

 

Jivvaar chuckled. “Oh, I’ll get to  _ that _ in a moment,” he said as he ran his fingers down her body then stopped just before he dipped between her legs.  “For now I meant that you are warmer than usual and your heart is beating faster.”

 

Zira shivered under his touch.  “That’s just because my gorgeous husband has gotten me all naked.”

 

Jivvaar smirked, then shook his head - no.  Then he turned his head and pressed his ear to her belly.

 

Zira snorted.  “The only thing you are going to hear is my guts trying to work.”

 

Jivvaar shook his head.  He rubbed his forehead then his jaw over her belly.  “At some point, I’ll be able to hear its heart.” He sighed.  “Can I taste you now?”

 

Zira chuckled.  “If you are sure you want to.”

 

Jivvaar nodded, but didn’t move.  “Zira?” he asked nervously. She pushed herself up on her elbows to look at him.  “I don’t….” he trailed off for a moment, looking for the right words. “You gotta tell me if you want me or not now.  I don’t wanna risk doing anything if you aren’t absolutely sure you want it, understand?” He thought about that some more.  “I mean, that goes for anytime, but I just want to be… extra careful now.”

 

Zira nodded slowly.  “The elders have been giving me all sorts of advice about that.”  She blushed.

 

Jivvaar laughed, “Me too.”   He licked at her belly, then began to trail little licks and nips downward.  Zira leaned back and adjusted her hips. Jivvaar spent a few minutes lapping at her lips, dipping his tongue in and out of her.  Then he stopped abruptly as asked, “Does it bother you that I can’t kiss you like a human?”

 

Zira groaned softly in frustration.  “No. I love the way you are.” She was silent for a moment as he began to focus more on her clit, her breathing getting faster.  “Jivvaar! Please!” she gasped. He eased two fingers into her, carefully working her open. Her pussy clenched and fluttered around him.  All it took was one more hard suck on her button and her whole body clamped down on him as she came. He kept lapping gently at her as her body slowly relaxed.  He eased his fingers out of her and she whimpered at the loss.

 

He was startled as she reached down and grabbed his ears to pull him up.    Jivvaar covered her with his body as he looked down at her, her juices dripping off his chin.  Zira wrapped her legs around him and started inch worming her way down to find his cock. Jivvaar laughed.

 

“If you want that, little one, you need to be on top.”  Zira put both hands on his chest and pushed. Jivvaar allowed himself to be rolled onto his back.  

 

Zira straddled him and slowly eased on to him.  “I’m getting better at this,” she noted. 

 

Jivvaar had his jaw clenched and was holding tight to the sleeping fur.  Zira smirked a little as she began to rock. Jivvaar suddenly reached up and held her hips steady.  It took a moment before he could speak. “Just…. I don’t want to cum yet.”

 

Zira’s eyes widened.  “Why?”

 

“I want to make this last.”  

 

Zira leaned forward and kissed his chest and rested her head over his heart.

  
  



	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is coming to an end.

There came a day when Zira woke up and sat up and was not immediately sick.  She thought about that for a long moment, then lay back down, curled onto her side and gave a little sob.  Jivvaar woke up a rubbed her back.

“What’s wrong?”

Zira wiped her eyes, “I knew this wasn’t going to work, but… well …  I had hoped, you know?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not pregnant anymore.”

Jivvaar sat up in alarm and pulled the sleeping furs back, making Zira gasp at the sudden cold.  He grabbed her legs and pulled them up and apart so that he could stare at her pussy, then flopped down and pressed his ear to her belly before sighing in relief.

ZIra looked up at him, “I thought you wanted this baby.”

“I do.  But I want you to be safe more.  Now tell me why you think you aren’t pregnant anymore.”

“Its morning and I’m not sick.”

“And?”

“And being sick is part of being pregnant.  I’m not sick so-”

Jivvaar leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

“I can hear its heartbeat.”

Zira just stared at him, her eyes wide, her jaw slack.  “Wh…what?”

Jivvaar laughed at her expression.  “I can hear the sound of the baby’s heartbeat, Zira.  It is fast and strong.  You haven’t lost anything.”

“Are …are you sure?”

“Yeah. I am sure.  Now stop worrying and let’s go back to sleep.”

This morning, as Jivvaar spooned her, he rubbed gentle little circles on her belly.  Zira sighed happily.

—-

Rov scrubbed his his hands through his hair then over his beard as he considered what he had just learned.  “You are telling me that the late Duke hired the slavers to take Zira.”

The guard cleared his throat.  “It would seem so, your majesty.  Fe found correspondence between the Duke and slave barn discussing how he had a surplus mouth to feed and he no longer wished to do so.  He specifically says now that her services are no longer required.”

“So the Duke was… unpleasant.  Then he dies of natural causes?”

Now the guard looks a little shifty eyes.  “Uh… not exactly, sire.  I was … questioning one of the house… staff and she told me that-”

Rov’s head snapped up, “Garreth, were you torturing the staff for information?”

“No, Sire!  I swear it was entirely consensual!”

The two men made eye contact.  Garreth shrugged wrily, “It was a long trip and she was plump and attentive, your majesty.”  The guard coughed.  “And she likes to gossip as it turns out.  It sounds like our house guest might be a former house maid with … aspirations of upward mobility.”

“Explain.”

The guard sighed.  “With respect, sire, I find myself unable to do so without sounding like a young woman.”  The king continued to look at him.  Garreth cleared his throat, “Molly told me that Sara said Hilda already had a bun in the oven, but she slipped herself under the Dukes youngest son every night for months, then claimed the baby was his.  And Daisy told Molly she caught Hilda saving peach pits all year before the Duke and his three oldest sons died.”

The king blinked.

Garreth shrugged.  “Not exactly the strongest evidence, Sire.”

King Rovadan shrugged.  “The nice thing about being king, Garreth, is that I don’t really need to explain myself.”  He thought about this some more.  “Northton might have a problem with staff gossip, but I don’t want anyone else to hear of this, do you understand?  It will only upset the queen.”

Garreth nodded. “I have spoken of this to no one, sire.”

“What about the loquacious Molly?”

Garreth shrugged.  “She only told me because she was hoping I would bring her back to the capitol with me.”

“And did you?”

“Not yet, sire.  I told her I would send for her in the spring.”

Rov considered this.  “Put together a team take an empty wagon to collect Bradley’s personal effects.  You can bring Molly here at the same time, if you can count on her discretion.”

“Thank you sire.”  Garreth hesitated, “If I may be so bold, how is her highness doing these days?”

“This morning she compare herself to a cow, then repeatedly screamed ‘Get out!’ at her belly.”  Once again eye contact was made.  Rov had know Garreth a very long time.  He allowed himself a small smile to share with the younger man.

“Should be anytime then,” Garreth ventured.

“I certainly hope so,” Rov replied adamantly.

—-

Now that the morning sickness had ended, Zira actually felt pretty good about travelling to King Rovadan’s court.  Jivvaar was less certain.  There were too many things that could go wrong and he would be in the heart of what could easily be enemy territory with his pregnant wife.  He was just taking his hunting party, but also a whole set of guards, but still.  If Ardra was there, Grakk was going to be useless.  Jivvaar didn’t even want to consider what would happen if it turned out she was married and had just forgotten to mention it to Grakk.

He would have vetoed the whole thing, if he could.

It was out of his hands.  The Keeper wanted to resolve whatever outstanding issue there might be around her daughter’s identity.

The horde passing through Willowdale caused the local guards some consternation, even after showing their invitation to court.

Jivvaar was feeling a little insecure because the caravan he was building for Zira wasn’t ready yet.  They had taken her mothers.  Zira didn’t care, but he was taking some teasing about that, and not from his brother for once.

When they stopped for evening meal the second night, Zira tossed a snowball at Grak and announced, “What’s gotten you so down?”

Grakk just shrugged.

Zira pressed on, “I would have thought you would be happy to see Ardra again.”

“I am.  But… what if she isn’t as happy to see me?”

Zira considered this.  “Then we figure that out when we get there.”

But the closer they got to the capital, the more quiet and sullen everyone became.  Jivvaar focused on his wife.  By the time they work one day out, he was keeping her with in arms reach at all times.  Which caused her some trouble when she would turn around too fast and crash into him.

That night, as they lay in bed in the caravan that Jivvaar did not make for Zira, he asked, “Do you want to go back to live with the humans?”

“What?  No!  Why would you ask me that?” Zira sat awkwardly up to look at him in the darkness.

“They are your people.  Your clan.”

Zira shook her head, “Not really.  Orc honour and clan isn’t the same as human honour and family.  I like the orc way better.  I like that there are no unwanted children.  If I went to live with the humies, that wouldn’t be true.”  She thought about this some more.  “Look.  This is just a formality.  We are going to meet the Queen.  She will see that I’m not who she thinks I am.  We will go home.  It will be fine.  Nothing more that a fun story to tell our children about the time we went to humie court to meet the royals.”

Jivvaar thought about that for a moment.  Then his brain caught up with his ears.  “Children?  As in more than one?”

Zira laughed at hit him with her pillow.  “What?  You thought I was going to pop one out and then suddenly be celibate?  I would hope not.”

Jivvaar pulled her tight and breathed in her smell before she straddled his chest and put her forehead against his.  “We will be fine.  It’s just a few days.”

—-

Zira had never been to court.  She had no idea how this was going to go.  Apparently, the first step in meeting royalty was being bathed and painted and tied into a fancy dress.  

The ladies maid was clearly not prepared for dressing a woman who firmly insisted she was an orcess.  Actually, Brianna might have been able to wrangle her way through that, her problem really was the orcish hunting party insisting the same thing.  Her usual tactic of appealing to the woman’s vanity wasn’t working.

“But this dress is silk!  And a very expensive blue silk at that!  Look at the exquisite beadwork on the bodice!”

“My shirt is also silk and I am not wearing a corset while pregnant,” was Zira’s firm reply.  At Jivvaar’s not so subtle movement to place his hand on his war ax, Brianna fled.

It turned out she was only getting back up.  She returned about an hour later with Ardra in tow.  By that point Zira, was getting her hair rebraided by Jivvaar, who was in turn having his redone by Grakk.

His fingers only wobbled a bit when Ardra came into the room.  

On her part, Ardra barely hesitated upon seeing him.  “Hello,” she said as a generic greeting, trying to avoid staring at Grakk or looking around the room for Raj-ak.  “I hear you aren’t happy with the outfits we have supplied for you.”

Zira shook her head.  “They are lovely human clothes.  But you aren’t dressing humans.  We are representing one of the orc clans, and I’m afraid that means the king and queen will have to meet us in orc garb or we will have to return to our own territorial lands without attending to them.”

Ardra pursed her lips at Zira.  “You are going to insist on this, aren’t you?”

Zira nodded, “I am here to represent Keeper Ural.  I will not dress up as a human and allow people to forget that.”

“But you are human,” Brianna said flatly.

Zira held eye contact with Ardra but tilted her head towards the ladies maid.  “And that, right there is why I cannot give up my traditional orc garb.  I am the daughter of Keeper Ural and people need to remember that.”

Ardra scanned Zira’s face for any signs that she might be joking, then sighed, “Well, this is going to make for an interesting dinner.  We have seated you next to your father.”

Zira tensed.  She closed her eyes for a moment.  “He already gave me away.”

“Wait!  What?” Jivvaar demanded.

Zira turned to look at him, “When a human woman gets married her father gives her away.”

“Oh.  That’s alright then.” Jivvaar replied, “Really very wrong, but if that is how humans do it, then he can hardly complain now, right?”

Zira grinned at him.  “That might not stop him though.”

Jivvaar shrugged, “But it does mean we do not have to listen.  Not if he already waved his claim to you.”

Grakk nodded in agreement.  

Zira considered this, then shrugged, before looking at Ardra.  “You are a diplomat, right?  You might want to explain this philosophy to your people before dinner.  In the interests of avoiding an incident.”

Ardra’s eyes narrowed slightly.  “You are just going to wear regular orc clothing to meet the king and queen?”

Zira shook her head.  “No.  I am going to wear my very best orc clothing to meet the king and queen.  I have my own pair of tailors these days and their work is excellent but still in keeping with orc traditions.  It is suitable for meeting high ranking orcs.  You can point out to anyone who objects that you were not forced to wear orc clothing when you came to the Keeper’s hall and that we expect the same courtesy in return.”

Ardra didn’t looked convinced.

Zira sighed. “Look,” she reasoned, ”We are only going to be here for a few days.  Just think of all the fun everyone can have gossiping about the horrible woman who dressed like and barbarian after we leave.”

Normally quiet Galdeck joined into the conversation at that point.  “Please remember this is Princess Zira.  The king isn’t meeting the daughter of a Duke’s fourth son, he his meeting Orc Royalty.”

Ardra consider that.  Then nodded and hustled Brianna out of the room.  “What are you doing?” the woman shrieked.  They can’t meet the king looking like that!”

Ardra shook her head, “The last one was right.  This is Princess Zira and we have not organized ourselves for that.”

—-

There was dead silence in the king’s council chamber.  The assorted grotesques carved into the walls seemed especially judgemental just now.

Finally the older, heavier gentleman with the formal robes and fussy mustache that was the master of protocol said, “Oh dear.”

Ardra nodded.  “Yes.  And to be fair the invitation was to the daughter of Keeper Ural.”

It took a moment for everyone to process that.  The master of protocol shook his head, “Dinner will have to be delayed, I can’t sit a visiting royal next to a soap merchant.”

As everyone hurried out, Millie turned to her husband, “This is suddenly very political, isn’t it?”

Rov sighed, “It was always political.  We are deciding the line of succession for a dukedom, it was always political.  What it is now, is an international matter.  I’m so sorry, my love, I should have just invited your friend to visit years ago.  Perhaps we could have avoided all of this.”

Millie shook her head, “If Zira is happy where she ended up, then I am happy for her.”

—-

When Zira froze in the doorway to King Rovodan’s throne room, Jivvaar put his hand on the small of her back and leaned down to whisper, “What’s wrong?”

“That’s my husband - my first husband, I mean.  I wasn’t expecting him to be here.  And he brought his mistress.”  

“You know I’ll kill him if he hurts you.”

Zira snorted.  “I love you Jivvaar.  But if we could try to get through this visit without starting a war, I would be-”

“Zira!”

It took a moment for Zira to look around and realize it was the queen who had screamed her name.  She squinted at the heavily pregnant woman on the dias and tried to puzzle out the face.  “Millie?”

The queen nodded happily.  “I’m so glad I found you!  I was so disappointed when Bradley turned up asking for his appointment with an imposter.”

“Wait, what?”

Queen Mila ignored the Master of Protocol trying to get her to sit.  “Yes, he turned up to be instated and claimed that woman was you.”

Zira looked at her former husband and her former maid, and at the child who looked nothing like the man claiming to be his father.  “Oh.”  She really didn’t know what else to say.  She gaped at her friend, “On my word!  You are pregnant too!”

Millie laughed and took a step forward, to the consternation of the guards on both sides of the debate.  I haven’t seen you since my debutante ball!”

Zira shook her head, “No, you were at mine.  It was about six months after yours, remember?  You have that horrible green dress and -”

Millie giggled, “-and we spent the night laughing about how it looking like I had been attacked by -”

“A swamp monster!” the finished together, laughing.

The Zira stopped, “How did you end up Queen? I mean no disrespect, your highness, but…” she trailed off unsure how to continue.

Millie grinned and shrugged, “Oh, you know.  Arranged marriage and all that.”

Zira glanced over at Bradley. “Yeah… that didn’t work out so well for me.  Much better when you choose for yourself,” she said, looped her arm through Jivvaar’s.

The master of protocol noticed the looks Jivvaar and Brad were exchanging and coughed, “If I may?  Your Majesty, King Rovodan, Your Royal Highness Queen Mila, may I present Princess Zira and Jivvaar of Porthcawl.”

Zira grinned showing her dimples and nodded her head.  Ural had been very firm that no orc should bow before a foreign king, but some sort of acknowledgment seem required.  She handed her letter of introduction to the chamberlain and waited impatiently for what needed to happen next.  

A long and boring period of standing around, apparently.  Zira took in the polished marble floors, the intricate and luxurious tapestries, the beautiful stained glass windows.  She even peered at the ornate dias and beautifully carved thrones.  Anything to avoid making eye contact with her father or Brad.  Eventually she was forced to shift her weight because standing on the hard floors had become uncomfortable.

Jivvaar flagged over the Master of Protocol and said quietly, “Princess Zira is with child.  You will either provided her with a chair or excuse us as we leave.  Now.”

There were a number of gasps from the corner where her former family was waiting

The man hurried over to speak with the king, whose head snapped up and fixed Zira with a slightly nervous grin.  Then the master of protocol hurried over to speak to a page. Moments later, two man came in, struggling slightly under the weight of a chaise lounge. Zira sat with a barely audible sigh and promptly put her feet up.  The orcs noticeably relaxed a little, falling naturally into defensive positions around her.   Eventually, Mila came over and sat down next to her.  Two small but pregnant women huddled together on the chaise.

“This was an excellent idea, Zeezee!” Millie said as she snuggled in.  “My feet were half killing me as well.”

Elias frowned down at her, making the palace guard adjust their grips on their sword hilts.  “Does your mate not tend to your needs while you are carrying his child?”

Zira coughed, “It is different for humans.  They do not appreciate their women and children quiet as much as orcs do.”  She thought for another moment, then added, “As we do.  Humans have unwanted children.”

There was a certain amount of grumbling at that.

King Rovodan had been eavesdropping and felt this was the perfect time to overrule his advisors and approve Zira’s paperwork.

Queen Mila laughed.  “Some humans appreciate their women.  I have no complaints.”

Galdeck considered this, “Well, you are the queen.  If any woman in your kingdom should be cherished, sure it would be the queen.”

Rov came over and offered Mila his hand.  “A discussion, perhaps for another time.  I understand there is a feast waiting for us in the great hall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments please!


	15. Chapter 15

At dinner, the orc contingent had their own table. This suited Zira just fine.  She didn’t have to make small talk with Brad, who was nowhere to be seen, or any of the other diplomats present.  She was not trained as an emissary.  Instead she got to practice her orcish listening to the hunters tease Grakk about Ardra and the guards wonder why everyone was strictly male or female.

Then there was the rousing game of spot who’s hiding.  Followed by a discussion of who was too fond of onions and which people looked like they might be amenable to a little orcish hospitality.  Zira hesitantly requested that they tread carefully with that one.  The last thing they wanted was one of the party to be arrested.

After dinner, one of the maids invited Zira to join the ladies in the queen’s drawing room, and was promptly appalled when Jivvaar tried to go with her.  Zira put her hand on his chest and assured him she would be alright.  

The ladies, it turned out was the queen.  Zira looked around in confusion, “Millie?  What’s going on?”

Queen Mila shrugged and took off her head dress, before loosening her stays.  “My word, Zira, the orcs certainly have the advantage for practical clothing.”

Zira shrugged, “They are a race of warriors.  Their society is honour based and everyone is expected to be able to support and defend that if necessary.  Those that can’t are guarded closely.  I had a hard time talking Jivvaar into letting me do anything once we found out I had caught.”

Mille was suddenly paying attention; she fixed Zira with a hard stare. “How exactly did you end up full of orc spawn?”

Zira sighed and rubbed her back before sitting in a chair, then moving to a chaise when the chair wasn’t comfortable.  “His clan freed me from a slavers’ barn.  I followed them when they left.  Eventually, Jivvaar ended up courting me.  I grew fond of him.  And when I was introduced as the keeper’s adopted daughter, I took him as my mate.”

Millie’s brow wrinkled at that.  So Zira continued, “It was a love match, Millie.  I wasn’t expecting to get pregnant.  I certainly wasn’t expecting to stay pregnant.  And I pray every day that I will be able to carry to term.”

Millie chuckled.  “Well it certainly is a big kiss off to Bradley.  He was enraged when he got the news.”  She thought for another moment then asked, “How did you end up as a princess?”

Now Zira blushed, “To be perfectly honest, orcs don’t have the same kind of royalty that humans have.  I am a respected member of the clan, but I’m not really a princess.  Keeper Ural sponsored my entry into her clan because she respected what I can do.  What I have accomplished.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

Zira stared at her childhood friend.  “The king asked you to interrogate me, did he?”

Millie had the grace to blush and look away.  “I need to know if you want to be sent back with them.  If you really want that.  Or if you want to go home with your husband.”

Zira tensed, “Jivvaar is my husband.  I chose him.  I didn’t choose Bradley.  I didn’t want Bradley.  I am not going back with him.”  She took a couple of deep breaths and forced herself to relax, but her eyes were still wet when she added bitterly, “Besides, as you so elegantly pointed out, I am full of orc spawn.”

Queen Mila sighed, “I didn’t mean it like that.  It was a joke!”  Zira didn’t laugh it off.  She tried again.  “There have been some… irregularities surrounding the succession of Northton.  I was hoping you could shed some light on what happened there.”

Zira gritted her teeth.  “When I was kidnapped by slavers, there wasn’t any sign of upcoming succession.  Bradley’s father was in good health.”

Mila nodded, “And Northton doesn’t have a problem with slavers.”  She fiddled with her sapphire necklace for a moment.  “I don’t want the dukedom to go to Bradley.  He isn’t up to the task of managing it.”

Zira nodded slowly, “You’re right, he isn’t.  He was never seriously in line to inherit.  His father barely spoke to him.  Neither he nor I were valued in that hold.”

They sat in silence some more.  To Mila’s surprise, Zira took off her boots.  Zira just shrugged, “My feet are swollen.”

Millie chuckled, then pulled off her heels, “Mine too.”  She tossed them in the corner.  “Do you want it?”

“Your shoes?  No!  They look horribly uncomfortable.”

“Oh my gods, are they ever!” Millie agreed.  “But no, I meant the Dukedom.  It is in the disputed zone.  If you and your… orc husband were to inherit it, that would go along way to stopping the raiding.”

Zira snorted, “I don’t want it!  I would be painting a giant target on my back!”

Queen Mila considered this, “Well, it’s up to Rov anyway.  But I don’t think you would be a target.  The orcs would respect the daughter of Keeper Ural and the humans would fall in line because you were backed by Rov’s throne.  And army.”

“What about Brad?”

Millie fought not to giggle, “Oh, we already have plans for him.  And inheriting the dukedom isn’t in his future.”

——-

Jivvaar wasn’t sure why he was here. Zira had gone off with the queen. Grakk had left with Ardra. But now he was in the dining room with the king who was asking stupid questions about orcs. 

Stupid insulting questions. 

Like how many wives he had. 

He gritted his teeth and mumbled, “Just the one.  How about you?”

The man had looked taken aback before laughing.  “That bit about orcs having more than one partner is a myth then, I’m taking it.”

Jivvaar frowned. “No.  Many partners. My whole hunting party is my partners. But only one wife.”

The king was still laughing, as though Jivvaar was making a joke.  Or as if he were laughing at the stupid orc. “I meant sexual partners. Not…” he stopped and waved his hands looking for the words before adding, “hunting partners.”

Jivvaar stared him down and was secretly pleased when the man looked away first. “So did I.”

And now the king was red and his guard was coughing. And Jivvaar still didn’t know why he was here. 

“Does Lady Zira know?” The king quietly asked. 

Jivvaar managed to be even more offended, “Of course!” he snapped. “I keep no secrets from my wife.”

“Ah! Of course not. … um…”  Rov was clearing struggling with what to say next.

Jivvaar sighed, “Just say it.”

“How… um… how did you end up with Lady Zira?”

Jivvaar flat out growled at that on, much to the dismay of the guards.  “She chose me!” he snarled. “She could have had anyone.  She had another suitor even before she was adopted by the Keeper.  But she chose me.  She married me into her clan.  She chose me because I care for her;  I respect her.  More than that abusive asshat her father _gave_ her to.  Idiots.  Both of them.”

Rov nodded.  “When it comes to Bradley, I would certainly agree.  Zira’s father though, he was being smart.  He is nothing but a soap merchant and yet he was able to marry his daughter into a nobel family-”  

Jivvaar realized he was growling again.  “Her father sent her to be beaten and raped and humiliated.  Calling the man who did that her husband doesn’t make it better.”

Rov sighed, remembering the advice from the midwife.  “No it doesn’t.”

Jivvaar looked down at the king.  “Does your wife know about your other partners?”

Rov gritted his teeth, “I don’t have any other partners.”

Now Jivvaar laughed.  “Because humans are different.  And you don’t like being judged by my standards anymore than I like being looked down at because of yours.”

Rov considered this.  “Fair enough.  I haven’t spent much time with orcs.  What I know of them is from stories.”

Jivvaar snorted.  “Let me guess, we ride giant wolves and eat babies alive.”

Rov had the decency to look embarrassed, “Something like that.”

Jivvaar shook his head, “Not wolves, they aren’t built to carry anything.  We ride draft horses.  And we’ve bread them to be heartier than the ones humans keep.”

Rov perked up at that.  “Now that is something I would like to hear more about.  Horses are generally a mess full of health problems looking for new ways to die.”

\----

That night as Rov lay in bed, spooning his wife, rubbing her belly, she asked, “So… what did you think of Jivvaar?”

Rov shook his head.  “He isn’t human.  I can’t imagine what Northton would think of us unleashing him on the locals.”

Mila shook her head, “Zira and Ardra could deal with the human population.  Jivvaar and his brother would be there to stop the orc raids.”

Rov pushed himself up to sitting, “Where does Ardra fit into all of this?”

Millie just giggled, “I don’t know Rov.  Didn’t you see her face when the orcs came in?  I’m pretty sure she wants one for herself.”

Rov shook his head and blew a raspberry on Millie’s belly.  “Don’t go starting rumors, my queen.  You will get poor Ardra into trouble.”

“I’m not starting rumors!  I am just speculating with my husband.”

“Uh-huh.”

\----

That night as Jivvaar lay in bed, spooning his wife, rubbing her belly, he asked, “When can we go home?  Humans are so incredibly rude.  The only safe thing to I had to talk to the king about was horse breeding.  And I have used up my stock of bullshit about that.”

Zira rolled over and snuggled him close, “I don’t think he was trying to be rude.  Humans are just different.”

“Hmm.” Jivvaar grunted.

“Orcs are better.” Zira continued.

Jivvaar snorted, “You are just saying that because I know how to make your toes curl.”

“Well, _yes_ , but also because you care enough to bother.”

\----

That night as Grakk lay in bed, spooning Ardra, he nuzzled her hair as he dosed.

She was barely awake herself when she mumbled, “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Grakk startled away at that.  “Wha?” he blurted out sleepily.

“Um,” Ardra stalled. “Can we please pretend I never said that?” 

Grakk considered this.  “If you like.”

Ardra nodded and pulled his arms around her.  

Grakk kissed the top of her head.  “I love you, Ardra.”

Ardra sighed. “Yeah.  Horrible isn’t it?  I can’t follow you home and you can’t stay here.”

Grakk sighed, “You are right, I can’t stay here.  But I could bring you home with me.”

Ardra groaned, “No. You can’t.  My family would never agree.  I need to stay in my own kingdom.”

“We will figure it out,” Grakk assured her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. The last chapter is up for my patrons and will be posted here for free later sometime after Thursday


	16. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Rov makes a decision about what happens with the Dukedom of Northton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had been laying ground for this resolution since chapter 1. I hope the payout was worth it.

Zira woke up way too hot.  When she sat up, Elias and Gorgo were stretched out in bed with her.  Jivvaar was not. ZIra sat up and looked around but couldn’t see him. She nudged Elias with her foot, grunted and mumbled something about going back to sleep.  “No!” insisted Zira. “Where is Jivvaar?”

 

Gorgo sat up and looked at her.  “He needed to go talk to someone.”

 

Zira felt a little ill, “Who?”

 

“He didn’t say.  Said he’d be back for breakfast and we were supposed to take care of you and make sure you have matching shoes.”

 

“Argh!  That was ONE TIME!   _ And _ it’s his damned fault I can’t see my fee!”

 

Elias snickered and rolled over, pulling Zira carefully into the little spoon position.  “Go back to sleep, you can yell at him after breakfast. Or at breakfast to practice your orcish.”

 

\----

 

Jivvaar found Zira’s father’s rooms by the simple method of asking for directions.  The guard was a little taken aback, but Jivvaar was asking to see his father in law, and that wasn’t unheard of.

 

The man looked very tense as her opened the door.  Jivvaar nodded. “I married your daughter.”

 

“So I heard.”

 

“I thought you might have questions about that.”

 

He sighed and stepped aside.

 

As he entered the man’s room, he introduced himself, “I’m Jivvaar.”

 

“I know.  I was in the throne room when you arrived.”

 

“I don’t know your name.  Zira rarely speaks of you and she always just says ‘my father’.”

 

“I’m Walahfried.”

 

Jivvaar nodded.  He was aware the polite response was ‘pleased to meet you,’ but he didn’t want to start this conversation with a lie.  “I am curious why you would give Zira away.”

 

Walahfried frowned.  “Is it what is done. A man gives his daughter away so that she may start her own family.”

 

“With a man she did not choose?  Who she doesn’t even know?”

 

“Marriages are arranged.  That is how it works,” Walahfried protested.

 

Jivvaar nodded, “Explain, please, how that is not sending your daughter away to be raped.”

 

“Now you are just being overly dramatic,” Walahfried frowned.  “She wasn’t raped!”

 

“I have watched her nightmares and I can assure you she was.”

 

“Ridiculous!  He’s her husband!  It isn’t rape! She is there to bear his children and -”

 

Jivvaar caught the man by the front of his shirt and dragged him up to eye level, “I suggest you choose your next words very carefully.”

 

Walahfried froze.  He swallowed a couple of times.  Then he said precisely the wrong thing, “How are you any different?  You think my daughter wanted to be carrying some half breed-”

 

Jivvaar nodded to himself, then threw the man across the room.  “I will not bother you with a birth announcement. I understand why Zira will not say your name.  And nor will I. You are dead to us.”

 

He nodded politely to the guard who was watching all of this, with his spear now pointed at Jivvaar.  Jivvaar pushed the tip gently aside, “Can you give me directions to the breakfast hall?”

 

“You threw him across the room!”

 

“Yes.  I know I should have removed his head, but my wife has asked me to be diplomatic.  He will feel that when he wakes up, but he will live. Now…. breakfast hall was?”

 

\----

 

Zira was not pleased.  Jivvaar was standing there like a nervous school boy.  “I didn’t kill anyone! No diplomatic incidents!”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

Grakk was grinning at his brother’s obvious discomfort.  Ardra elbowed him firmly in the hip.

 

Then Zira turned on him.  “And what were you doing? I was expecting you to help me keep him in line.”

 

Grakk grinned happily, “I’m trying for twins!”  Everyone suddenly was staring at him in shock, including Ardra.  “What? I already made the first one, so the second should be -”

 

Zira crossed the room as quickly as she could under the circumstances and pulled Ardra out of the room.  “They won’t tell anyone if I insist. What do you need me to do so that you can be safe?”

 

Ardra stared at her.  “Is that real?”

 

Zira watched Ardra’s face very carefully as she said, “Probably.  They could smell that I was pregnant before I knew.”

 

Ardra suddenly sat down, pretty much just collapsing to the floor.  “I can’t be pregnant! I’m not married! My parents will kill me!”

 

Zira awkwardly bent over and hugged the other woman’s shoulders.  “There are no unwanted orc children. We can bring you back with us, and keep you safe until the baby is born.  Then you can leave it and go back to your parents and pretend that this never happened. If that’s what you need.”

 

“I…”  Ardra stopped and thought, “What if I want a quickie wedding instead?”

 

Zira grinned.  “Oh! Well, now, that is way more fun.  Let me tell you how that works.”

 

\----

 

Ardra walked up to Grakk and threw a glass of water in his face.  Then, as he sputtered, Zira handed her a second glass of water and she got Raj-ak too.

 

Grakk and Raj-ak were feeling slightly dazed and rather more damp, the ladies turned and went to find Queen Mila.

 

Ardra was going to go with the diplomatic approach of dancing around the subject for 20 minutes before getting to the point.

 

Zira had spent too long living with orcs to bother with that.

 

“Ardra’s pregnant and needs your permission to marry Grakk.”

 

Millie blinked, “Jivvaar’s bother?  Has he proposed?”

 

Zira shook her head.  “Orc don’t work that way.  It’s more of a checklist. Gifts offered and accepted - check! Demonstration the male would be a good provider-” she looked at Ardra and raised an eyebrow.”

 

Ardra fought a grin.

 

“I believe that is a yes,” Zira continued.  “Next is the ritual bath, which we just covered, more or less-”

 

Ardra gasped then fought a giggle, then a cough then just gave up and laughed until tears streamed down her face.

 

Millie frowned then shrugged, “What else do you need?”

 

Zira sighed, “Approval from at least one  family, and a banquet. Then the party who is taking the other provides them with a place to live.”

 

Milie suddenly had a wicked grin.  “I can arrange all of that! One moment, you are going to need Rov, Jivvaar and Grakk here for this.”

 

\---

 

“What?”

 

King Rovodan looked rather too smug for any on their liking.  “It’s simple. You stop the orcs from raiding Northton. Zira and Ardra speak for the crown.  This arrangement solves a bunch of problems.”

 

Zira raised her hand as though she were in school, “With all due respect, your majesty, that won’t work.  If you are having problems with orc raids, you need to stop that. Jivvaar and Grakk won’t be able to. Orcs raid when they have an agreement and the other side cheats them.”

 

Jivvaar nodded slowly, “We raid to take the equivalent amount of goods to make a fair payment.  If Northton is being raided, it’s because someone is cheating the orcs that pass through there. And it won’t be the same tribe twice.  Once a town cheats a tribe of orcs, they refuse to do business with anyone in that town again.”

 

King Rov wasn’t looking so smug anymore.  “Is that so?”

 

Zira chewed her lip for a moment, “I bet the raids stopped when the duke left.”

 

“No.  They have stopped recently, but they got worse-” he stopped abruptly, “-until Bradley was brought to court.”

 

Zira and Jivvaar shared a look.

 

Rov took a deep breath and blew it out.  “That doesn’t change anything. Something must be done about Northton and this is what I choose.”

 

Elias cleared his throat.  “Keeper Ural won’t be happy you are taking her daughter.”

 

Zira raised her hand again.  Millie rolled her eyes, “Just say it.”

 

“It would work better as a set up like they have at Willowdale and Porthcawl. A human town and an Orc stronghold close by.  If you are going to insist on this, just deed Ural a property on the very northern border.”

 

Rov grinned again, “I like how you think.”

 

\----

 

Bradley marched into the throne room, his mistress, Hilda and their son at his side.  He had been told that the King was finally going to confirm the dukedom today. Zira was sitting on a chaise, surrounded by orcs when he arrived.  It was only fitting, bitch that she was surrounded by animals.

 

The king made a speech about reparations being made to keeper so and so for decades of bad faith blah blah blah.  He wasn’t really listening. It didn’t have anything to do with him But he was surprised when Zira hauled her fat ass of the chaise and mumbled something about thanking the king for his generosity or something.  She always was too quiet for public speaking. It looked like getting railed by orcs hadn’t fixed that. 

 

He was mentally enjoying that picture when the king said something about a duchess.  Brad didn’t know the woman who was replying but, “Wait! That’s MY dukedom!”

 

Everyone turned to face him.

 

Rov cleared his throat.  “No. This is my kingdom and I can confer the title on any one I wish.”

 

“But that’s not fair! It’s my house!”

 

“Wrong again.  The house and the lands are owned by the crown.  The duke, or in this case,  _ duchess _ is merely there to act as the king’s representative.  And I don’t like how you have been representing me. Don’t worry, though, I have already arranged for the royal guard to remove all your personal items from the keep.  You make take them and go.”

 

Brad swallowed.  “Go where?”

 

“Where ever you like.  Won’t that be nice.” The king thought for a moment then added, “Anywhere but here.  You are dismissed.”

 

“You bastard!”

 

There was suddenly a sword at his throat.  “Choose your next words carefully, that sounded like treason to me.”

 

Brad tried again, “I respectfully protest.”

 

“Protest noted.  Off you go then.”

 

He didn’t notice that Hilda had picked up their son and had fled.  He was too busy focusing on Zira, “You bitch! This is your fault somehow!”   He rushed at her and stopped. There was a knife sticking out of his chest. There were women screaming.  The knife wasn’t supposed to be there. He pulled it out and with a sudden gush of blood the world went dark.

 

\-----

 

Ardra’s parents were so pleased about her becoming a duchess that they didn’t even complain too much when she explained at the confirmation banquet that she was marrying Grakk ‘for political purposes’.

 

That night Grakk made one and only one joke about he and Raj-ak being dukes together.  Then Ardra firmly explained that the title wouldn’t go to either of them or their children and was a short term position until the region was more stable at any rate.

 

Raj-ak was too busy grinning at the way Ardra had included him in the ‘your children’ comment.

 

Spring came and Millie had a son.  Two months later, Zira had a daughter.  It took Millie all of five minutes from the time she received the birth announcement to the time she started plotting to arrange a marriage.

 

Four months after that, Grakk marched into the great hall at Porthcawl holding a tiny baby in each arm and announcing, “I win!  I told you I was making twins.”

 

Zira took one look at her husband’s face and laughed, “It isn’t a competition.”

 

Jivvaar sagged, “Yeah.  And Ardra has twice as many husbands to change the diapers, so I suppose it’s only fair.”

 

That summer Jivvaar and Zira built a new tribe of orcs and they headed north.  The land that King Rov had given then was going to be settled first by stone masons.  They had a new keep to build. Duchess Ardra let Zira and her brood stay with her while that happened.

 

After all, it didn’t hurt to have strong diplomatic ties to the Keeper of the local orc stronghold.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. New woman/monster fic debuts tomorrow! See [ Tumblr ](https://pixie-unger.tumblr.com/post/175812570288/on-to-the-next-thing%20rel=) for details and extras.
> 
> Comments are so appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. That just sort of happened yesterday. I was aiming to just write a little smut, but this happened instead.


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